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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29985978">Your Expectations are too High, I'm Barely Standing</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hatwall/pseuds/hatwall'>hatwall</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Fighting Pit [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fundy and Niki and Ranboo are siblings, He/Him Pronouns for Eret (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Jschlatt is Toby Smith | Tubbo's Parent, Major Character Injury, Mild Gore, Miscommunication, Niki | Nihachu and Ranboo are Siblings, Overworking, Parent Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Piglin Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Protective TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Wilbur Soot, Sad Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Self-Harm, Sleepy Bois Inc Angst, Sleepy Bois Inc Fluff, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Sleepy Bois Inc-centric, Technoblade Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade is Bad at Feelings (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade-centric (Video Blogging RPF), They/Them Pronouns for Eret (Video Blogging RPF), Trauma, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, capitalism was the enemy all along, i just don't know how to tag things right, in chapter 13, this whole series is techno-centric</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 17:55:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>52,615</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29985978</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hatwall/pseuds/hatwall</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything was fine. Technoblade returned to his job at Hypixel and his manager could not be more pleased. And they have something big planned for his first fight back in the ring, something that is sure to get bids up. Meanwhile, Phil, Wilbur, and Tommy try to uncover the secrets that Techno had been keeping from them.</p><p>Read "You Don't Have to Be Alone," and "The Road to Recovery is Pathed in Chamomile Tea" first for this to make sense.</p><p> </p><p>This is strictly about the character and not about the actual content creators. If this crosses any of their boundaries, it will be immediately taken down. Respect people's boundaries.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eret &amp; Floris | Fundy, Eret &amp; Floris | Fundy &amp; Niki | Nihachu, Niki | Nihachu &amp; Ranboo, No Romantic Relationship(s), Ranboo &amp; Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot &amp; Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit &amp; Phil Watson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Fighting Pit [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2110044</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>637</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>560</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. I am My Own Conviction</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>If you don't read the other two works first, and just want to figure out what happens along the way, I commend that, but that is also some dad energy right there. You can't tell me I'm wrong.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eret held the bag of bones piglet close to his chest, wrapped the small one up in his cloak to shield his sensitive skin from the harsh sunlight of the overworld. He could feel a little hoofed hand grabbing onto his shirt, the occasional little snort or grunts of curiosity. The little one was cute; Eret could admit that he only hoped that Philza was still looking for a son. Not the most conventional firstborn, then again, nothing the avian did was normal, so it fit right in with his repertoire.</p>
<p>“Almost there little one,” he whispered to the piglet, “once we have a way to let you walk around the Overworld, we’ll take you to your new father.”</p>
<p>The piglet snorted a little, before laying his head on the king's chest. It was nice to talk to someone again, even if that someone could not understand what he was saying.</p>
<p>The walk from the portal he had made to his castle was not very long, the path lined with trees and flowers, birds chirping, welcoming a new day. He tried to make everything as pretty as he could, not sure that he would ever get used to the beauty that was in this world. Or any other world, for that matter.</p>
<p>The king was not from this realm, hailing from a far-off place, with a name that would only sound like a jumble of colors to the normal person. His home realm did not have much to offer him war plagued on for years and years, destruction around every corner, to the point where finding anything living was a miracle. Homes were a luxury and not a right. Food was bland and tasteless, but people were happy to even be able to fill their bellies most of the time. Cannibalism was common. Blood was a permanent fixture on the ground, and the sky grew darker each passing day. Leaders with power manipulated people into joining their cause, claiming victory, only for people to be left to die the next day. Eret had done his best to bring peace to the land, fighting alongside his kind in hopes that something good would be the outcome.</p>
<p>It became obvious that the conflict would never stop. Both sides were stubborn and refused to put aside their differences for the greater peace of all. Power was more important than people, and the people had no choice but to agree.  So he had left. Escaping through a hole in the world to this realm.</p>
<p>And ended up here.</p>
<p>To his luck he, mostly, it in with the population around him. His white eyes being the only giveaway, but that was an easy fix. Fighting was still a sore subject, but here it was not mandatory. Some people participated for the glory, not the survival of themselves, and the people around them. He did not like the fights very much. After all of the destruction he had seen, it seemed silly and stupid to voluntarily put that situation on other people.</p>
<p>He had taken up photography as a hobby, sitting long hours on top rooftops, capturing the beauty around him, so he could look at it even when the moment had passed.</p>
<p>The fact that there was food and a surplus of it was astounding. He had been very malnourished when first arriving, almost making himself sick with how much he had eaten. A starved man who did not know when he would be starved again.</p>
<p>He sold his photos for coin, a concept that also did not make much sense to him, but it allowed him to eat, and that was good enough. And life was good.</p>
<p>Years passed. The world changed, but he stayed the same. His lifespan stretched longer than most people's, and the world passed by like a blur for a while, leaving him lonely and aching for some kind of connection with others.</p>
<p>Sure he met people, but he could do more. Had to do more. There was so much more good that Eret could do he knew it.</p>
<p>Getting a server seemed like a good place to start, and that was where he met his first and only friend, a wise and tired avian hybrid named Philza. Ice blue eyes, and more chaotic than people originally thought.</p>
<p>They two had become fast friends, and as much as Eret had taught the man control over his being and spirit, something that was second nature to the otherworldly being, Phil had taught him more than ever could have hoped. Protecting others. Providing an opportunity to help others be safe. Phil talked about wanting kids often, but wanting to wait until he had a place where he could make sure that they were happy.</p>
<p>Eret wanted that.</p>
<p>A new purpose blossomed for him, to create a place where people could be safe, unlike the insecurity and fear that influenced him home. A place where food and shelter were second nature, and people did not have to worry about eating their friends if they ever died. The dead would be respected, and food would be plentiful.</p>
<p>It was not until he had built a safe place had been built around his castle, did he start doubting if he should have stayed and tried to help his home realm. He could have done more for them, but now he was here, happy, and healthy, while his people still suffered. The people who had turned their backs on him so many times before. Who left anyone for dead who was not worth saving. It was a miracle that he made it out alive, and going back would not be easy.</p>
<p>That was the reason he had found himself in the Nether, hoping to see some sort of answer in the lava ocean below.</p>
<p>But now, with a piglet so close to him, clenching into him for warmth and protection, Eret felt a little better about his decision.</p>
<p>The large doors of the castle closed behind him, and Eret unwrapped the bundle, letting the piglet poke his head out but still keeping most of his fuzzy little body covered to prevent him from getting cold. It was a shock going from the Nether to Overworld, especially for someone who had spent their entire lives in the blistering heat. Even with the thick red cloak around him, the piglet still shivered.</p>
<p>“Let’s get you a potion, I think I have something that is going to work.”</p>
<p>The castle was huge. With golden arches reaching all the way back, flowers blooming to life in chains, with an upper balcony lining the very edges of the walls. A giant split staircase that leads up to the balconies, with a giant rose tapestry in the back wall. Pink, blue, and purple colors swirled around all the place, mixing with the rainbow colors that stretched far as well, filling in any gaps. Eret had grown very fond of colors.</p>
<p>He climbed the stairs, taking the first hallway to the right, and the second door on the left. Giant windows lined the walls of the hallway, looking out to the city below with brilliance and poise. Eret was proud of his creation, only hoping that others would come to enjoy it as well. He could protect them from his castle, not only with the admin powers he had been bestowed but the natural ones he had. Protect them much better than the leaders of his realm had. He had to, or else he was just as bad as they were.</p>
<p>Opening the wooden door there was an immediate mix of smells. Acidic, flowery, and sharp heat all mixed in the space. There is a workbench in the center, all wall space used by different cabinets and chests, with brew stands resting on top of the counters. A few of them bubbled with life, dripping their contents into glass bottles that stood next to them, but the majority of them were off.</p>
<p>“Stay right here, little one,” Eret said, placing the piglet onto the counter before getting to work. He had a few recipes in mind that might help with holding back the zombification process that happened to most piglins went through when they were exposed to sunlight, and he was pretty confident that he could get it to work.</p>
<p>Humming a tune from his home realm, Eret got to work on the process, fishing out different ingredients, grinding them up, and putting them to brew. Every once in a while he would glance behind him to check on the piglet, only to watch the toddler swinging his legs over the side of the table, looking around with owlish eyes, taking in everything. He really was a cute little thing.</p>
<p>Half an hour later, Eret breathed some of his magic into the potion, and swirled it around in the bottle, watching it refract, and change colors in the light. It was pretty.</p>
<p>“Here you are little one,” Eret said, scooping up the piglet again, balancing the toddler in his arms, helping him hold the potion bottle. “Drink this, it should help.”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>“Wilbur! Wilbur!” Phil shouted. Wilbur stomped past the avian into the house, fuming with rage and nowhere to put it. “Wil, tell me what happened? What was that?”<p>“What happened? What fucking happened?” Wilbur turned to face his father, getting right up to the man. “That fucking idiot of a piglin that I called my brother is going to get himself killed, and I could care less if he does! Ungrateful bastard!”</p>
<p>There was no reply. No one to stop him. He had originally planned to stomp to his room and scream out his anger, but looked like he had not gotten there in time.</p>
<p>“He just thinks that he can waltz into our lives again, before leaving after a week? And he…..he…..”</p>
<p>He felt the anger leave as soon as words started to fall out of his mouth. Almost without explanation, draining out of his body as soon as he made eye contact with Phil. Soft, patient eyes, waiting for his son to be done throwing a fit so they could start working on what he had broken.</p>
<p>His arms sagged next to his body, everything in him slumped, tried with no frame of anger to keep him fired up. He was just….tired.</p>
<p>“Fuck….” his hands ran through his curly brown hair, his own words echoing through his head, “fuck….Phil, I am…..I…..fuck…..What I have…..”</p>
<p>“Wil, listen to me.” A hand lightly put itself on his shoulder, holding him at arm's length, not hard, but enough to not let Wilbur go anywhere. To actually listen. “This is not your fault.”</p>
<p>“Dad, what are….what….”</p>
<p>“Dad,” a voice from behind them made Wilbur break out of the hold, whipping around to see Tommy standing in the empty doorway.</p>
<p>He looked like he wanted to say something else. Opening his mouth before closing it and looking to the ground.</p>
<p>There was nothing more to say. There was no comfort to give because all of it would turn out to be lies. Wilbur knew that Phil could say that everything was going to be ok, but would that even be true at this point? Would they just be lying to themselves to make it seem like everything would, somehow, magically turn out ok? That there was not something seriously wrong here?</p>
<p>“This is fucked.” Tommy’s voice broke the silence. He had such a way with words.</p>
<p>Wilbur breathed. A slow in and out.</p>
<p>He had not been lying about what he had told Techno. Ranboo’s brother, Fundy, really could help. They were planning on meeting up soon to do the actual work of it, but that might have to be sooner than any of them thought. Techno was walking into something dangerous, and they needed to be ready for when he needed their help again.</p>
<p>Because Techno would call right? He had not taken Wilbur’s words seriously, right? That was just rage, and anger, and…. He would call, right?</p>
<p>Worry started to churn up nausea, and Wilbur was starting to regret his words.</p>
<p>“Wilbur,” Phil’s voice was quiet. Tried. Who could blame him? “What was that?”</p>
<p>“A mistake.”</p>
<p>“I’m going to need more of an explanation.”</p>
<p>“He wanted to leave. He’s obviously not well, and I know that you don’t want to pry, so I thought that it might be better if I did, and….it didn’t.”</p>
<p>Phil gave a nod. And that was it. Wilbur might have been more content if his father started to yell. Scream even. Tell him what an idiot he was. That now it was just going to be harder to get Techno to talk to them. But he was smart enough to know that that was not Phil’s style. The avian did not lose his temper very easily. But being angry would have been better than this. Quiet acceptance. Wilbur supposed that it was a fitting punishment then.</p>
<p>“The contact,” Phil said, looking right at Wilbur, “the one that Techno signed. Have you found anything on it?”</p>
<p>“Not yet. I have to go to Fundy, one of Ranboo’s brothers. He was going to help us finger out more since neither of us has the skills to do a deep search on someone. We’ll set up a meeting as soon as possible.”</p>
<p>Another near-silent nod. The three stayed out in the front of their house for a little longer, not looking at each other, mostly just the ground. None of them said anything. Complete and eerie silence.</p>
<p>There was so much and yet so little to say all at once. It was not until one of them suggested that they go inside. None of them remembered who had made the suggestion, but it did not matter. Everyone stood in the living room for a while, too deep in thought to say anything, before, one by one, they all drifted off to their rooms.</p>
<p>Wilbur left first.</p>
<p>Whether it was the pressure of shame or the need to get working again, he did not want to admit to either. Because they all tied back to the intense guilt he felt deep in his guts. The reality that he had fucked everything up was too….real. Too prominent in his own mind. He wanted to forget. Almost as much, he wanted to be forgiven.</p>
<p>Hours slowly danced their way through the house, and darkness overtook the sky. Wilbur had set up an appointment with Fundy tomorrow early morning at the L’Manburg cafe, and he had just been aimlessly searching the internet, trying to find any new evidence. That had led him back to the video that had been taken the very first day Techno had been out of the hospital. He was watching it. On loop. Not even really watching it, just listening to the audio, over and over and over again.</p>
<p>The excited crowd. They were excited. It made him sick, but that felt deserved. Occasionally there would be a lull in the noise, and he could hear the faint noise of Phil whispering a reassuring word or Techno whimpering and groaning in pain. It kept on loop until he could no longer feel the suffocating hole in his throat. Until he was too numb to feel himself crawl out of his chair and into the dark, night-covered hallway.</p>
<p>He found himself in front of Phil’s door. He needed to apologize. It would eat away at him otherwise. It had been eating away at him. Techno was not here. And he doubted that the piglin would even pick up if he tried to call him. So, Phil.</p>
<p>But what was he even going to say? ‘Hey dad, sorry yelling at Techno and telling him that I never wanted to help him when he’s in trouble again, and now we have to worry about him not calling when he needs help.’ Yeah sounded like a great speech.</p>
<p>Why was his silver tongue failing him now? Normally he was very good at talking it was one of his strengths that he relied on, maybe a little too much. So why did his tongue feel so heavy in his mouth, sitting uselessly against the roof of it, unable to form a single word? Why couldn’t he just be done with this?</p>
<p>“Wilbur?”</p>
<p>He jumped at his name, looking down the hall to….Phil. Wings tucked against his back, hands limply at his side. His face was drawn and tense. He looked so much older, the single light in the hallway was a window to his back and highlighted all of the imperfections in his skin.</p>
<p>“H-hey. What….?”</p>
<p>“Tommy had a bit of trouble getting to sleep, so I was helping.”</p>
<p>Right. Stupid of him to think that they would all just go their separate ways. Stupid of him to think that they would all just stew in their anger, and self-pity like he had.</p>
<p>“How is he?”</p>
<p>“Tired. Of everything. Scared. Of….everything.”</p>
<p>“He does not deserve this.”</p>
<p>“No one deserves this.”</p>
<p>They fell silent</p>
<p>Wilbur kept his eyes glued to the floor, begging his mind to come up with something, anything clever to say. An apology that sounded as sincere as he was. That showed that he was sorry. And he was willing to pay for his actions.</p>
<p>“Phil….I….I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>Phil gave a little, humorless chuckle.</p>
<p>“I don’t think that I can be the one to forgive someone, Wil, I did the same thing.”</p>
<p>He had. And Wilbur had been furious when he did. And how that the tables had been turned, all that he could find in Phil’s face was somber fear, and quiet, but dwindling, hope. No anger.</p>
<p>Shit, that made him feel even worse.</p>
<p>“It’s funny,” Phil continued, “Tommy is the rambunctious one, and he’s the only one who had managed to not yell at an injured person.”</p>
<p>It was funny. In a fucked kind of way. Both he and Phil, theoretically, should have known better. Funny how things got so out of hand when emotions got too high.</p>
<p>“We’ll get him back Wil.” Wilbur’s head snapped to look at his father, a soft smile highlighted by the choppy moonlight. “It’s just going to take time. And once we get him back, you can apologize. For now, try to get some sleep. We have a lot to do in the morning. And the sooner we can get him out, the more likely it is that he has not reinjured himself.”</p>
<p>That was terrifyingly possible, but he understood where Phil was coming from. If he was not going to get sleep for himself, might as well get it for someone else. With a nod, Wilbur started to his room, near where Phil was already standing, passing each other as they went.</p>
<p>“I love you Wil,” the avian said, standing at the threshold of his room.</p>
<p>Another nod.</p>
<p>“Love you.”</p>
<p>Sleep was restless, and he turned over the questions he would give to Fundy too much in his head, but it eventually came to him, and he drifted off into a pitch-black, fitful sleep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Welcome Back, Broken Warrior</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It rained where I am from and it was very nice :D</p>
<p>Rain is one of the best weathers out there</p>
<p>Also, I changed the name of this work just because I did not like it. So this was previously "Not the Place, Not the Time."</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Technoblade had woken up on the cold tile floor of his bathroom early the next morning. It had been five in the afternoon when he had finally gotten back to his apartment, so it made sense why he would be up so early. He had to be awake at this time anyways. Work and all that.</p>
<p>His mouth tasted like stomach acid, while his stomach felt uncomfortably empty. Faded memories of the night before started to trickle through his numb mind. He could not feel it in himself to feel sad. Or guilt. Or shame. Or really anything. He just pulled his barely held together body up with much more effort than he had been in the past.</p>
<p>His apartment felt just as empty as he did, breakfast was just being a few eggs in a pan, overcooked, but it’s not like it mattered, before rifling through his bag, pulling out the small vials of straight potions.</p>
<p>The first emotion of the day started to creep onto his mind: worry.</p>
<p>He was sure that he was going to have to increase the dosage to three vials today, really just to function at a decent level and get through the day. He could not do anything fancy, but it was not like he had been planning on it either. The thing that he was worried about was how high the dosage was getting.</p>
<p>The hope had been that he would fill in the gaps of his strength with the potions, and as his body got better and his natural strength would come back, he could take less and less of the potions. That was not the case. The more he took, the more he had to increase the dosage. At the rate he was building a tolerance was too high, too fast, and he was starting to edge onto a dangerous amount of potions, an overdose.</p>
<p>He was aware that it could happen. Hell, it had been one of his first concerns, but Techno had never predicted to be on the potions for this long, or this much. And it was starting to become worrisome. An overdose was the last thing that he needed. He did not need another reason to be in the hospital.</p>
<p>At least he was not addicted. He could quit whenever he wanted. He would even go as far as wanting to quit but knowing that he could not. Not for a while at least. He could worry about slowly getting himself clean another day when he felt like dealing with this bullshit</p>
<p>Taking a deep breath, he downed the potions, swallowing the nausea, before breathing in the power that they gave him. Stitching together any residual damages in his wounds.</p>
<p>Day one of being back. This would be fine. He would be fine.</p>
<p>There was a knock at the door. He jerked a little, knocked out of his thoughts where he had been staring at the counter for the last however long. He was dressed….technically. He had not changed out of his clothes from yesterday, having slept on the bathroom floor in them. A white t-shirt and gray sweatpants. Good enough. It’s not like he was going to be in them for very long. And so what if he had a meeting before his fight? He was tired and did not want to deal with having to change, for his manager no less.</p>
<p>So it was good enough.</p>
<p>Slightly stumbling to the door, his body still getting used to the drug, Techno shoved it open, immediately groaning at the harsh hallway lights, and covering one of his eyes, pressing a palm into the growing headache.</p>
<p>“Welcome back Techno!” Niki’s bright and cheery voice cut through the drag of Techno’s mind. He could not help but smile at the duo, oh wait, trio, in front of him. Niki stood in front, her shoulder-length pink hair poofy and brushed with care, overall shorts over her striped long-sleeved shirt. She had a tote bag off to her side, weighed with something, and she kept it very close to her.</p>
<p>Ranboo stood slightly behind his sister, standing straighter than normal. Not twisting his hands in a normal nervous fashion, but kept them neatly behind his back. He looked put together. Not that he was always a mess, but there was always that undertone with how he presented himself, a little bit of a mess. Now, he looked confident, if a little….angry. Techno was getting tired of seeing anger.</p>
<p>The third was a member of his neighbors family that he had not seen in a while. A fox hybrid, with tall black, tipped orange ears and a waist-long black jacket, his hands shoved into the pockets. Black pants and an orange shirt, with a fluffy fox tail swishing behind him. Fundy had been gone for a while, helping their other sibling with some things, and looked like he had just returned. He shifted from one foot to another, not looking the piglin in the eye.</p>
<p>And as much as it was nice to see what he considered to be his second family again, Techno was not in the mood. He was not in the mood for anything. Not the food that churned in his stomach. Not the nauseous feeling rolled in his head. Not the bright lights that almost wanted to blind him from above. It was all bullshit.</p>
<p>Least of all, he was not in the mood for the meeting that he was going to be late for.</p>
<p>“Yeah, it’s great to be back,” he mumbled, ignoring the obvious shift in Niki’s expression, looking back at his apartment, grabbing the keys that hung on a hook, and felt his phone in his pocket, “I was just starting to head to work.”</p>
<p>“Well it’s a good thing that we caught you,” the pink-haired girl fished something out of her bag, handing him a few wrapped cookies with a wide smile on her face. “As a welcome back gift. May we walk with you?”</p>
<p>Techno hesitantly took the gift. It’s not like he did not like Niki’s baking, it was some of the best pastries he had ever had, no it was the fact that he felt guilty. People had already done so much for him, he did not want to worry them more or have them do things for him that they did not have to do. He inconvenienced people enough. He needed to start being an adult and taking care of himself again. Easy.</p>
<p>Giving a shrug, he pocketed the cookies, slipped out of the door, and started to make his way down the hall, all of the siblings following close behind. Ranboo did not take his eyes off of the piglin, while Niki walked right next to him. Fundy was nowhere to be seen, but that was normal. The fox tended to disappear.</p>
<p>The walk was silent and awkward. No one tried to even start a conversation, all of them picking various points to stare at and sticking to them. Techno had chosen the ground. He knew the way well enough that he did not need to look where he was going. That and he was trying to forget the way the back of his neck burned with Ranboo’s eyes, and he was hyper-aware of where Niki stood a little too close to him, like she would jump in front of him if anything wrong happened. Which made no sense. He was stronger than she was, even with all of the power he knew the women had, he could still protect all of them. If it ever came to it. Which it would never. There were not a lot of threats in the city.</p>
<p>But the walk was painful enough to make him almost sigh in relief when they finally got to the front of L’Manburg Cafe. A little place, with its little flag pinned above the door, painted a sky blue, with white trim all around it. It had been one of the first projects he had done with the siblings. When he was just starting to get to know them, they had been struggling to get some furniture into the place. It was right on the way to Hypixel, and he had recognized them from when they had run into him in the hallway. It had only taken a few minutes to carry the heavy cabinet into the cafe and place it.</p>
<p>And when they were still working on his way back from a fight, he could not resist offering to help, again.</p>
<p>One day of offering his help had turned into one of the strongest bonds that he had with people, minus his family. He loved them, he really did. They were just getting in the way now. Everything was fine, Techno was fine, and yet he could feel the anxious protectiveness rolling off of them. Undeserving and unneeded, those were the only things that he felt when he gave a quick wave and kept walking. Everything was going to be fine.</p>
<p>The large, looming stadium started to come into view, and he could not hold back the anxiety that gripped around him. First thing was first, he had a meeting, then the one fight that he was scheduled for today, meaning to be the main event of the night, and then home, to sleep off whatever headache was starting to pound in his head. </p>
<p>The stadium was framed with gray, and glass buildings on either side, traffic constantly moving below the obvious jewel to the city. A small, dirty employee entrance was tucked off to the side of the normal guest entrance. Techno powerwalked past the parking lot, trying his best not to look at his car, still resting in the same spot. Normally, he did drive, just because his body was barely working after a long night of fights, and driving was just easier. That, and he got tired of people rushing past him in the night, terror wracking off of them. It was just better for everyone the more he kept his seven-foot-tall piglet self out of public.</p>
<p>The walk to Jones’ office was hazy, and he could only really remember the way that the carpet squished under his hooves, but in a blink of an eye, he was there. Standing in front of the oak door, hand trembling.</p>
<p>This was fine. Everything was fine. He could handle this.</p>
<p>With a deep breath, he knocked.</p>
<p>A loud ‘come in’ barreled through the door.</p>
<p>Jones D. Henswort sat at his dark wood desk, almost unnaturally neat and tidy, although it reflected the man sitting behind it. A man of numbers and precision. Each and every thread of his gray suit was in place, every piece of his too black hair was plucked to perfection, every section of his skin was shiny and glittering. His smile was perfect and charming, and he used his hands a lot when he talked.</p>
<p>In other words, he was a prick.</p>
<p>“Technoblade!” he said, opening his arms to the piglin that just walked in. Techno did not miss the way he also cringed back a bit. He settled onto one of the chairs in front of the desk, “it is so great to have you back buddy. We were really worried about you.”</p>
<p>“Yeah I’m sure,” Techno snorted, rolling his eyes. He had heard this all before. Family bullshit never worked in companies they were always trying to take something for free from you. Especially when they saw you as nothing more than a product.</p>
<p>When he had come to the one person who was supposed to have his back in this company, the one person who said that Techno could go to him if he ever had a problem. When he went to Jones after getting beaten to a pulp in the locker rooms, face still swollen and bloody, shaking with anxiety and fear, the perfect man had brushed him off. Pushing him to the side like he was nothing. That had set the tone very fast. After that, Techno started to realize how things were going to work here: he was a product, meant to be used. And there was nothing he could do about it.</p>
<p>“Well we did, and I know that you missed us as well, what would you do without your family?” <i>Oh please.</i> Techno rolled his eyes again. “At the very least, I missed you. And the investors did too. Do you know how much work I had to do to keep them interested? Without their favorite pig, they just, wow, were very quick to pull, but I kept them in there, with the promise of the fight tonight. Oh, no one knows about it, and that is just going to make it all the more interesting. All they know is that ‘The Blood God is back, and he is ready for blood.’ Like that little slogan there? Someone came up with it, and it stuck, so we used it for advertising. I think that it is catchy.</p>
<p>“Anyways, I’m rambling. There’s nothing to worry about, everything is going to be pretty much the same, just a few minor details. Petmo paid to give the opponent a potion of strength. Lete paid for one of regeneration. And Rephoquen, I never know how to say his name, paid for a potion of speed.”</p>
<p>No weapons. Only potions. That did not sound good. Weapons were way cheaper to buy than potions. Rich people just liked to spend money sometimes. Especially if they were bored.</p>
<p>“And none of you, but that’s just normal. They really want to test your limits this time. Even after they were warned about who you are going to be fighting. Don’t worry, we did not tell anyone, just teased, we would never give away the surprise that easily.</p>
<p>“But the hoglin was hard to wrangle, so it should all be worth it in the end…..”</p>
<p>Wait, wait wait, did he just hear that right? No, that could not be right? Had he just heard that he was going to be fighting a <i>drugged-up hoglin</i>?</p>
<p>“Wait, what?” Techno sat up in his chair, looking right at Jones. This had to be a joke. It had to be.</p>
<p>“Is there a problem?”</p>
<p>“Did you just say that I was going to be fighting a hoglin?”</p>
<p>Jones rolled his eyes, buttoning the bottom buttons of his suit, and looking around the room, clearly annoyed.</p>
<p>“Techno, you were the one who decided to fuck off and leave for a week, alright. Do you know how hard it was to keep people interested in something that they could not see?</p>
<p>How hard it is to keep rich people interested in something? They want things instantaneously, and I had to reassure them, daily that ‘yes Technoblade will be back,’ ‘don’t worry he will be back,’ and ‘oh don’t worry, he just decided it was a good fucking idea to take a break in the middle of our peak!’”</p>
<p>“Do you know what is going to happen to that hoglin when it gets exposed to sunlight?” Techno could hear the panic in his voice. Feel the shivers that wracked his body, because he was fucking terrified. His hands gripped the arms of the chair, trying to keep himself grounded and steady.</p>
<p>“Please, what do you take me for? I know full well what it is going to turn into, but that is what is going to make it all the more interesting! They are going to eat this shit up, and our views will go through the roof!”</p>
<p>“But….”</p>
<p>“But what Techno? What could you possibly be worried about now?”</p>
<p>He wanted to cry. He really really did. This was so much worse than he had been expecting. A fight, sure, but not this. The stitches that held his body together felt so much weaker now that he knew what he was going to be fighting. A drugged-up zoglin.</p>
<p>This was not fine. His body started to shake.</p>
<p>“B-but,” Techno tried to keep his voice steady, he really did. A disappointed sigh from Jones was enough to make him curl up on himself.</p>
<p>“Listen here you stupid, stupid piglin. You are the brawn. I am the brain. Let’s just stay in our lanes. This is the best way to get your views up after that little disappearing stunt you pulled. If you want to stay here, you are going to have to do this. And because I am so benevolent, I am even going to let you take some strength potions, if you need them, to help with this fight. See. How can I be the bad guy?”</p>
<p>His eyes burned with tears. This could not be happening. Techno swallowed thickly.</p>
<p>“I-I can’t take any more strength potions.'' The fear was starting to overtake his entire chest, making then nausea so much worse. He could not get sick. He could not.</p>
<p>“Than don’t fucking take them. Jesus. All you do is whine, and after I go out of my way to be such a nice guy.”</p>
<p>Techno expected his mind to be overrun with thoughts, bouncing around in his empty skull until it was too much for him to bear. He did not expect it to be so….quiet. That was worse in a way. Barely contained to his body by a single thought, almost consumed by the void that was growing in his mind. Fear was something he was used to. But it was not often that it was for himself.</p>
<p>“Get out of here, you give me a headache,” Jones said with a dismissed wave of his hand, rubbing the space in between his eyes with the other hand. “Go get ready for your fight. </p>
<p>It’s in a few hours.”</p>
<p>His hooves shook under him. Stumbling to the locker room, one hand pressed firmly over his mouth, deep breaths to keep him from throwing up the only thing keeping him upright.</p>
<p>This was fucking bad. It was…..fuck.</p>
<p>Techno was not sure how long he had been sitting on the bench, staring blankly at the locker in front of him, but it was long enough for other people to start trickling. Loud noises of men starting to slab and open lockers, the strong smell of perfumes, freshly cleaned clothes, and sweat clogging Techno's snout.</p>
<p>Hastily grabbing his things, Techno rushed off to one of the stales, all but slamming the door shut and pulling out his phone. Fumbling with it a little before reaching the contact he needed: Phil.</p>
<p>This was a little too familiar. A little too much like before. Wilbur’s words echoed around in his head. He meant those.</p>
<p>But this was Phil, not Wilbur. Wil could not tag along if he decided to. And who the fuck else was there to call?</p>
<p>Besides, Techno was fucked. That much was so incredibly obvious. He had overestimated his own limits and underestimated how much Jones was going to put on him. Maybe fighting three people at once, but not a zoglin.</p>
<p>Zoglins were violent, brutal, and strong. Techno himself had only fought one once, and that had been on accident. And even with being fully rested, with Tommy at his side, they had barely scraped their way out alive. If Phil had not shown up when he did, they would have been goners. That was the closest Techno had gotten to seeing red around his family, voluntarily, letting it slip out but still keeping a very short leash on it. Even that had not been enough. Not on his own.</p>
<p>Techno let his back slam into the hard concrete wall, sliding down until he sat on the cold floor.</p>
<p>He was in over his head. Overwhelmed, and there was no way to get out of them. He was not even sure what calling Phil would even do. Give him time to prepare for the bloody mess he would come back as? Beg for forgiveness? All of them seemed like coverups for the real reason he was calling:</p>
<p>The Blood God wanted to hear his dad's voice.</p>
<p>With a deep breath, Techno pressed the contact and held the phone up to his ear. Anxiously chewing on the ends of his fingers, counting the rings until….</p>
<p>“Hello mate!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Enter Fundy and Jones D. Henswort</p>
<p>And enter Techno finally making a good decision since the series started. He's really just trying his best.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Shift Through the Dirt so I can Find a Way to Care</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This episode of angst brought to you by changing POV ten million times in one chapter.</p>
<p>This chapter is extra long. As a treat. Also, this was hard to write, and I had to edit it like twice, and that was very fun. Hopefully, it turned out ok.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Wilbur woke up early the next morning. Much earlier than he normally would have but his mind refused to rest. There was a light buzz echoing around in his head, no real thoughts, just a remembrance of a time when he did have thoughts. When his mind would be quiet enough for him to think. There were still a few hours before he had to meet up with Ranboo and Fundy at the cafe, so he had time.</p>
<p>Sliding out of his bed, Wilbur dragged himself over to where his computer was, dragging a blanket with him. If he had time he was at least going to use it well and see if there was any new news from Hypixel.</p>
<p>There was a fight tonight. Staring the Blood God. It was odd to see his brother in such an advertised way, like he was more of a product, a crazy monster rather than a person. Wilbur was getting sick of seeing that.</p>
<p>It had not been announced who Techno would be fighting yet, but they were playing it up to be the ‘fight of the century.’ Which was doubtable since every fight that happened seemed to be the ‘fight of the century.’ But still, the wording was worrying. Wilbur made a mental note to have Fundy check out who his brother would be fighting.</p>
<p>Nothing else new had happened, and he had to keep himself from watching all of the videos he had complied of Technoblade again. Mindlessly scrolling on the internet, even picking up his guitar before realizing his arms were too heavy to play anything.</p>
<p>The hours of the morning dragged on, and the sun was starting to claim its place in the sky when he finally decided to step out of his room into the quiet house.</p>
<p>Quiet was unusual, but not for the mornings. When all of the brothers had been home, Phil and Techno were the only ones who woke up early. And even then they did not make a lot of noise. Techno going outside to get some training in, while Phil watched the sun, and sometimes went for an early morning flight. Even when Techno had left Phil got up early and made coffee.</p>
<p>Walking as quietly as he could, Wilbur slide his socked feet through the halls, padding down the stairs and turning the corner to see.....an empty kitchen. Not just Phil had made some coffee and taken it somewhere else, but it had been bare the whole morning. No warmth or disturbance had been made. Wilbur was the first one to be there, and that was worrying.</p>
<p>Anxiety jumped into his throat. A pool of dread deep in his gut. He scrambled back around and up the stairs, tripping over his feet with every step. His mind felt blank and filled with fear at the same time. If Phil was hurt.....</p>
<p>He slid to a stop in front of his father's door.</p>
<p>It was closed and almost eerily quiet. Wilbur panted to catch his breath, his head letting him actually think.</p>
<p>Maybe he was sleeping in? It’s not like the avian did not deserve it. He had been stressed recently so it would make sense.</p>
<p>Exhaling, Wilbur opened the door, ever so quietly, before peeking in. Whether his father was sleeping in or not, the possibility of the latter still clawed at his throat.</p>
<p>Phil’s room was about the same size as his sons, with a bed shoved to the back wall, bigger than the others to accommodate his wings, with trophies all along the walls and a deep forest green trim along the edges. A balcony with the lace curtains drawn and a desk that was clean and tidy.</p>
<p>And the form of his father, curled up in his bed, wings wrapped tightly around him. Asleep.</p>
<p>Wilbur could have left it at that. He was going to leave it at that. Phil was asleep, which was not a crime, and he could leave. He was alive. And that was all that Wilbur needed to know. But a dark feather made him stop.</p>
<p>It was lying on the ground on the other side of the bed, discarded, so unlike the pride that Phil normally held in his wings. </p>
<p>Slipping into the room, Wilbur started to edge his way around to get a closer look at it. It was nowhere near Phil’s molting session, so there was no reason that he should be losing feathers.</p>
<p>But there was another. And another. A scattering of ten feathers laying on the ground before him.</p>
<p>Phil moved a bit. Wilbur jumped, almost thinking that the avian was waking up. Until he saw the shutter in his shoulders, shaking with a breath. And a barely audible sob.</p>
<p>Phil's face was pressed into his pillow, covered pulled all the way up to his chin, while his entire body was wracked with a sob. He looked so small and fragile. The avian who had protected them all as children raised and loved them, broken right in front of one of his sons.</p>
<p>Wil’s heart ached for his father.</p>
<p>He had no idea what to do. Did he try to comfort the avian? But he was pulling out his feather. Phil had only pulled out feathers once. Tommy had gotten sick once when he was still a kid, to the point where none of them were sure he was going to survive. It had been late at night when Techno and Wilbur walked hand in hand to Tommy’s room, wanting to check up on the boy to make sure he was still with them.</p>
<p>Phil had been there, hunched over in a chair next to the sick boy's bed. His wings pulled around him a bit. It could have mistaken it for preening, and it almost looked that way, if not for the growing pile of feathers at his feet. The next day, Wilbur could pick out the balding spots in his father’s beautiful gray wings, even if he had tried to hide them.</p>
<p>Hell, as guilty as it made him feel, he would not be surprised to learn that Phil had been pulling out his feathers for a long time. Wilbur found tugging on his hair in the shower to be more relaxing than it should be. But there was a difference between pulling on his hair and pulling out feathers.</p>
<p>Wilbur knew that. And he knew that there was no way that he could help.</p>
<p>Quietly as he came out, he slipped back out of the door and closed it. He would address that issue later. Later when Phil wanted to talk about it. Not when Wilbur broke into his room to find his father crying and shaking in bed.</p>
<p>So he went downstairs and started to make some coffee and toast for the rest of the house.</p>
<p>He felt so numb to everything.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>Tommy was awake. He had been awake for a while, staring up at the ceiling of his room, waiting for the hours to tick by. Wilbur would be heading out to meet up with Fundy and Ranboo. Of course, the blonde was planning on tagging along with his brother for no other purpose besides he wanted to do something and not just wait.<p>The waiting was killing him. It was killing Phil too. While his father chirped and sang to him in songs of his kind to try to get his son to sleep, all Tommy could focus on were the growing bald spots on his wings. His ice-blue eyes dulled in the darkness of his room, pressing a kiss onto his son's forehead before slipping out of the room, Tommy already half asleep.</p>
<p>He was worried. All of them were. But Phil was getting hit the hardest with all of this. And Tommy desperately wanted to fix all of this, to put on his normal goofy way of doing things, and act like everything was ok, even though they know that that was the furthest thing from the truth. Everything was just….too much. Too many secrets, and hurt feelings, and walking the border of trust or distrust. And Tommy was tired of it all.</p>
<p>Slowly and methodically, he pulled himself out of bed. Wilbur was going to be leaving in less than half an hour, and the gods be damned, he was going to tag along.</p>
<p>The house was alive with the faint smell of butter melting on toast and the bitterness of coffee. The promise of a bland breakfast dragged Tommy downstairs. He quickly walked past Techno’s door, to see Wilbur leaning against the island, sipping on a mug of coffee, with a plate of toast sitting next to him. Phil was nowhere in sight.</p>
<p>“Where’s dad?” Tommy asked, still looking around, like the birdman was hiding somewhere.</p>
<p>“He’s still in bed.”</p>
<p>It was six in the morning. Way early for Tommy and Wilbur to be awake, but not Phil. He was up with the sun, enjoying the silence and solace of the early morning hours. But he was still in bed. That was very wrong.</p>
<p>“I know,” Wilbur said, sipping on his coffee, “I’m worried about him too. He’s not doing well, especially after yesterday.”</p>
<p>Yesterday. That had been a bad day. Tommy had been on his way to talk to Techno when all hell had broken loose. He doubted that either of his older brothers had noticed him on the stairs while they rushed to the door, yelling and swearing at each other. There had been fights in the house before sure, no family was perfect. They had sworn and yelled at each other, but this was the first time someone was walking away from an argument. Running, with tears in their eyes. His brothers were not people who stood down when they thought they were right. No one in their family was. So when Tommy had seen Techno running from an argument, tears welling up in his eyes…..it was so wrong.</p>
<p>And no one was talking about it. They had made a plan and called it a night. It had been Tommy who tugged on Phil’s sleeve, asking for comfort when he knew he was not going to be able to sleep.</p>
<p>Everything felt so much worse than it had before. Like the week of soft, domestic bonding between all of them had just been a buildup for everything to come crashing down. That it would take too much effort to fix so no one did anything about it. Tommy knew that if he wanted things to be fixed so much that he should be the one to try to fix things, and yet he followed his older brothers and fathers lead. Staying quiet.</p>
<p>“I’m going to be heading out soon,” Wilbur said, pulling a satchel bag over his head and letting it rest on his shoulder. His eyes were blank, a cold seething fury the only thing letting Tommy know that his brother was still alive.</p>
<p>“I’m coming with you.”</p>
<p>“No, no you’re not.”</p>
<p>“Yes, I am. And there’s nothing that you can do to stop me.”</p>
<p>“You need to stay here with dad.”</p>
<p>“He’s going to be fine, and we won’t be gone for very long.”</p>
<p>“Tommy, I don’t want to argue with you….”</p>
<p>“Then don’t. Let me go with you.”</p>
<p>“Dad needs someone here with him…..”</p>
<p>“And I can’t just sit here and wait.”</p>
<p>The two brothers stopped. Tommy was in the middle of pulling on one of his shoes, looking up to look at Wilbur. Looking at his brother with the most determined look he could muster and narrowed his eyes. He was not going to let this go. He was not going to be left behind suffer in the agony of waiting. This was doing something that was going to help. He had to help.</p>
<p>Another moment before Wilbur signed, dropping his gaze and looking at the floor.</p>
<p>“Alright” Wilbur caved, “but we are going to tell him that we are heading out.”</p>
<p>With a nod and a quick pull of his shoes, Tommy followed the older with a slight bound in his step. It was not often that he won something. And even with the direness of the situation, it still felt good to best his brother in something.</p>
<p>That pep quickly left when the two stood in front of Phil’s door. Their father always was a beam of light, soft and caring, who was willing to fight when he needed to. He was warm and chaotic, never wanting to tell the boys how to live their lives or to be anything other than who they were. Tommy could not think of a better parent to be adopted by, especially at such a young age as he had been. Phil was all he knew, there was no one before him.</p>
<p>And it hurt to see a drape of despair wrapped around his room. Tommy almost caved right there, offering to stay with their father while Wilbur discovered more. But he knew that waiting would kill him and he would end up going away. So he stayed and waited while Wilbur knocked.</p>
<p>Tense silence filling the house, before a soft, barely held together ‘come in’ whispered through the door.</p>
<p>The brothers exchanged a look before Wilbur pushed the door open.</p>
<p>Phil at least was sitting up, but it was clear that he had just done that when he had heard the knock, the covers were still pushed off to the side. His hands fidgeted with each other, while his greasy hair dragged down his face. His wings were plucked, trying to pull them around each other to cover the bald spots. There were probably feathers hastily shoved under the bed to try to hide his decline from his sons.</p>
<p>Tommy wished people would stop hiding things from the people who could help.</p>
<p>“Hey dad,” Wilbur’s voice was steady, and filled with worry, a sad smile accompanying it, “Tommy and I are going to head to L’Manburg and try to figure out what we can. We’ll be back in a few hours, ok?”</p>
<p>“Oh. Yeah, ok.”</p>
<p>Tommy’s heart sank at the words, a painful ache stabbing into him. They were so slow, and broken and….not like Phil. It was hard to pinpoint what was wrong with the words. Because Tommy could see his father reflected perfectly in them, while at the same time they were so distant to who he was, that it was like a completely different person. What he struggled with was that the hurting person in front of him was not someone else who had just possessed the body of his father. That was Phil. And he was hurting.</p>
<p>Wilbur gave a nod and closed the door. There was a faint shuffling of cloth, as the avian crawled back under his covers, not having the energy to get up yet. Tommy had that feeling a few times. He had never been alone in those times.</p>
<p>The brothers left, silently taking the keys, and making their way to the portal, eyes cast down. The drive was silent. The city was muffled with noise. It was not until they pulled up into the parking lot did Tommy snap out of his stupor, and stepped out of the car.</p>
<p>And he had to admit, taking that first step into L’Manburg, she was beautiful. It had its own flag, proudly displayed on one of the walls, surrounded by other memorabilia and pictures. Each chair and table was different, bringing a certain kind of charm to the whole place. Dark oak floors that creaked with age and use, and an abundance of windows. Pink, purple and blue-colored roses were placed every which way, tucked into the corner where the walls meet the ceiling, or in the very underside of the chairs. Upbeat, quiet music played, making him feel a little more alive than a moment ago. Tommy liked this place.</p>
<p>Ranboo was easy to spot, the tall part enderman standing behind the counter, handing a cup to a little girl with his long arms, smiling with his abnormal mouth. He seemed so in place, like he just belonged there, cheery and happy, before his heterochromia eyes caught the two.</p>
<p>“Tommy! Wilbur!” he said with a wave, motioning for them to come over. “Fundy is upstairs, you can take the back.”</p>
<p>“Thank you Ranboo,” Wilbur slipped behind the counter but stopped when he got next to the enderman hybrid, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Did you see Techno today? Is he alright?”</p>
<p>Ranboo gave a sad nod.</p>
<p>“He walked with us. He seemed….numb. Tired. Did something happen between all of you?”</p>
<p>Wilbur gave a sad smile and patted him on the shoulder. “We’ll catch you up later.”</p>
<p>The back was a maze of shelves and equipment, a little kitchen was the main specifical of it all with the wooden staircase right next to it. Niki gave them a wave as they climbed, as well as a tight smile. She was….exhausted. Tommy was getting used to seeing that.</p>
<p>There was a single door at the top of the stairs, which led to an office. It was painfully plain, obviously not used very much, with a decorative four-panel window at the opposite side of the room. The only thing in the room was a coat rack with a few things on it, a coach, and a desk with a fox hybrid sitting at it. He jumped a bit when the door opened.</p>
<p>“Oh Jesus, don’t scare me like that,” the fox said, putting a hand on his heart, before slumping back a bit.</p>
<p>“I assume you’re Fundy,” Wilbur said, closing the door behind them.</p>
<p>“That I am. And you must be Wilbur and Tommy. And you have some work for me.”</p>
<p>“To put it lightly yes,” Wilbur skirted around the desk. There were two chairs on the other side. Why someone would put a desk with you back to the door, Tommy had no idea.</p>
<p>“So what are we doing? Finding an ex? Ruining someone’s life? Find that one pizza guy that makes it just the way you like it?”</p>
<p>“Ruining someone’s life, if that’s what it takes.</p>
<p>Fundy stammered a little at the statement. Like had been half-joking and was not expecting that kind of response.</p>
<p>“Umm….well….yep, ok, well, do you have a name?”</p>
<p>“Jones D. Henswort. He works for Hypixel as a manager, one of his fighters would be Technoblade.”</p>
<p>“Right.” Fundy's smile dropped imminently, and a tension raised in his shoulders. He had to at least be familiar with Techno, even if he did not know the piglin personally. And the shift in his expression was enough for Tommy to know that he at least cared. Tommy appreciated that. It was nice to know that other people cared about his brother too.</p>
<p>“It should not be too hard,” Fundy said, tapping around on his computer, “do you just want dirt on him? Or is there specifically something that you want?”</p>
<p>“He’s been making contracts with people. We don’t know why, and we don’t know what they contain, but they are binding and a lot of work has been put into them to keep them covered.”</p>
<p>“They’re probably not legal contracts, so we can’t just look them up, so we’ll have to look someplace else. Give me a minute.”</p>
<p>Tommy had no idea how Wilbur could sit down while Fundy worked, he was too anxious to sit still, pacing around the room in circles. There was not a lot to look at, the desk, the chair, and coach were the only things in the room. But it did not make sense why someone would need so much sitting room.</p>
<p>The window looked out into the streets below, people bustling around, dodging in and out of stores, cars honking at each other. If Tommy angled himself right, he could just make out the stadium of Hypixel.</p>
<p>The building made him sick.</p>
<p>How much longer was this going to take?</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>Hours passed. Dripping by like syrup out of a tree. Slow, sticky, and hot. Tommy had been pacing the entire time, staying uncharacteristically quiet, although Wilbur could feel the words and anxiety starting to build in the teen. He had opted to just sit and stare. The fox hybrid seemed to be in his own little world anyways and did not seem to mind the eyes. Wilbur was just looking beyond him but needed a single point to go beyond.<p>His mind came up with plans, predicted what they were going to find on Mr. Henswort. Drugs? Illegal fighting ring? Skinning puppies? Or the much worse option, they found nothing. The possibility had crossed his mind, that they were all just making a big deal out of nothing. That they would go to all of this trouble only to find that Techno was happy away from home, and was living a successful life. Wilbur did not know why, but that would hurt more than any sort of dirt they found on Henswort.</p>
<p>There was a soft knock at the door before it was inched open, Ranboo standing with a tray of pastries and a kettle of tea, awkwardly pushing the door open with his hip.</p>
<p>“We’re closing up now, so Niki thought it would be a good time for pastries.” It was almost 6 pm. They had been here all day and found nothing. “How’s it going?”</p>
<p>“I’m almost there,” Fundy said with a far-off look, like he was barely registering that someone was here.</p>
<p>“He gets like this,” Ranboos said, setting the tray down on the table. Everything on it was decorated and pretty, still hot from just getting taken out of the oven. It all made Wilbur’s nervous stomach churn. “How are you two holding up?”</p>
<p>“I fucking bored!” Tommy shouted, snatching one of the cookies off of the tray and shoving it into his mouth. Wilbur smiled. That was the younger brother he knew. “How much longer is this going to take?”</p>
<p>“I’m working on it!” Fundy shouted back.</p>
<p>The two set into bickering, a comfortable background noise for Wilbur’s aching head. A hand rested on his shoulder, lazily dragging his eyes over to Ranboo’s.</p>
<p>“How are you holding up?”</p>
<p>Wilbur shrugged.</p>
<p>“I’m going to be fucking glad when this is all over.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, tell me about it.”</p>
<p>“And how about you? How are you dealing with all of this?”</p>
<p>“I try not to think about it too much. Staying busy with the cafe helps. Niki does the same, just tries to keep busy when there is nothing specific to be done.”</p>
<p>“Coping seems to be the only thing anyone has been able to do recently.”</p>
<p>“Phil?”</p>
<p>A nod.</p>
<p>“He’s not doing well. We just need a conclusion. It does not even have to be one that we like, there just has to be one. Or else we are just going to keep wondering, and worrying and wasting our energy rather than….”</p>
<p>“I got something!”</p>
<p>Wilbur jumped out of his seat and scrambled over to where Fundy was sitting, getting on one of his sides. Tommy was on the other side in a second as well, leaning over to look at the computer better. They needed a conclusion. And they were so close to on.</p>
<p>“Jones D. Henswort,” Fundy started, pulling up some documents that Wilbur was too tired to read. “He’s pretty high up on the food chain in Hypixel, with quite a bit of power and influence. He manages the fighters, the hiring process, when they are fighting, and manages advertising those fights.</p>
<p>“Techno was hired six months ago, and works directly under Henswort as a fighter, and one of the most popular ones. He’s dragged in the most revenue out of all of the fighters combined and gets put on quite a bit as well. Almost fighting every day.</p>
<p>“That’s all things we knew before. What we did not know before is that five months ago, Henswort started to take illegal bids for Techno’s fights. Depending on how much money is bid on a player, they get perks to help win the fight.</p>
<p>“What Henswort has been doing is putting a ridiculous amount of money on Techno, to the point where people can’t refuse the possibility of Techno losing and getting that money, and they start to bid against him. Giving perks to the opponents. What makes this different than normal is the fact that Techno has not lost a match….ever. This got the attention of some wealthy men, who had a little too much money and wanted a place to spend it.</p>
<p>“Hundreds of thousands, upon thousands of dollars has been placed against Techno, and each time he comes out on top, giving Henswort all of the money. And people keep coming back, even with his insane winning streak.</p>
<p>“He has a fight tonight, and he has money bid against him. This is the first time that there has been literal millions of dollars bidded against him, probably since he’s been gone so long, and people are itching to get back into this….sick way of gambling.”</p>
<p>“Who is he fighting?” Wilbur asked, eyes dancing across the screen. He was not even sure if he was processing everything that was going on at the moment. Tommy certainly did not look like it. Glassy eyes, frantically looking around the screen. A hand slipped its way into his. Wilbur squeezed his younger brother’s hand, praying that that was enough to let him know that he was not alone.</p>
<p>“It’s not who, it’s what.”</p>
<p>A video was pulled up, spreading across the screen. A camera, shaky and laggy, but Wilbur could just make out what the room was. It was a stable. And in it was a large, terrifying creature, shaking its head, and growling with irritation: a hoglin.</p>
<p>“He’s going to fight a hoglin. And with the money that has been stacked against him, it’s going to be drugged, with regeneration, st…..”</p>
<p>That was it. That was all Wilbur could take, gripping Tommy’s hand and dragging him out of the door. Oh, gods no. This was not happening. Tears burned in his eyes, chest shaking, but he kept moving, barely registering the siblings following close behind. His brother was going to die on live TV.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>It took hours for Phil to finally find the strength to get out of bed. Shoving the few more feathers that he had pulled under the bed, dragging a hand through his hair. He would feel bad for not being there for his sons, if only he was just not….so tired.<p>Heaving himself up, the avian stumbled downstairs, leaning heavily on the wall as he went. His mind was blank, unable to spark, much less hold a single thought in his brain. This was all just….</p>
<p>Just…..</p>
<p>Yeah.</p>
<p>The coffee was cold and bitter, but he did not care, drinking it down to try to chase off some of the tiredness. He did not want his sons to see him like this when they got back. They deserve better than that. And that was going to require a shower. And a shower took energy. So coffee.</p>
<p>There was a dull buzz on his green coat pocket, making him vaguely aware of the fact that he did have a body. Fishing the device out, his aching eyes adjusted to the brightness of the screen.</p>
<p>
  <i>Technoblade</i>
</p>
<p>Why was his eldest calling him?</p>
<p>Phil was not able to come up with any theories before his finger slid to answer it, pressing the device up to his ear.</p>
<p>“Hello mate.”</p>
<p>There was a pause. The line was dead with heavy breathing on the other end. No, sobbing.</p>
<p>Someone was sobbing</p>
<p>Techno was sobbing.</p>
<p>That snapped him back to reality very fast, putting the cup down, and standing up straight.</p>
<p>“Techno? Mate, what happened?”</p>
<p>There was another beat of silence, with a few shaky breaths. He was having a panic attack. Or had just come out of a panic attack. Either one was not good. Phil could feel the rage starting to build up in his chest. He was about to speak again when….</p>
<p>“Dad?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, mate? I’m here.”</p>
<p>“Dad, this is so much worse than I thought.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I am here to politely, and calmly tell you to, respectfully, buckle the fuck up. You know the drill, this is going to be a ride.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Beginning of Something Great (Horrifying)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chapter? Hard to write. Geology? Kicking my ass. Technostream? The only reason I feel alive.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Techno shook on the floor of the bathroom, the phone shaking in his hands. A hand was pressed against his mouth, trying to keep the sobs in him. There was a soft buzz of people around him, just beyond the thin plastic door. People getting ready for work. Joking with each other, talking about their weekends, while Techno bit his tongue to try to keep the whimpers shaking around in his chest.</p>
<p>He felt like he was crumbling, falling to pieces while desperately trying to pull the bits back together, like holding sand in a toddler's chubby, uncoordinated hands. Except he felt so small. He was in over his head, that was painfully obvious. Every mistake, every decision that he ever made that he had been so sure was the right one, that he had made a good decision, was bouncing around in his mind, berating him with every way that he wanted wrong.</p>
<p>The lies. The sneaking out to the shed in the middle of the night. The insisting that he was fine. He had been wrong.</p>
<p>And his brain took it a step further. The shame he felt burning in his stomach was not harsh enough, it needed to grow. He needed to feel miserable.</p>
<p>The space he had taken up in Phil’s house. Eating his father’s food every day for the majority of his life. The help he had run back to when things became too much, the open arms he just expected to be there, despite everything he had done.</p>
<p>He almost hung up the phone right there. This was his punishment. This was what he deserved, to struggle and bleed with the decisions he had made.</p>
<p>“Techno? Are you still there?”</p>
<p>Technoblade’s jaw shook with…..something. He had learned a long time ago to label his emotions when they came across his mind, a coping mechanism that he and Phil had developed to try to get the piglin to get more in touch with his emotions. Right now, he felt miserable and happy that he was miserable, shame, and joy that the lava burned in him. He felt wrong, and small, and wanted to be pulled into his father’s arms, while also pushing away the one man that he knew was going to care. He was disgusted with himself. It was too much. This all was….</p>
<p>“Techno, please, I need to know what happened if I am going to help,” his father pleaded.</p>
<p>The words started to tumble out of his mouth before he could stop them.</p>
<p>“Dad, I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. This is all my fault. I….I should have listened. I’m…..I…..”</p>
<p>“Techno, please, you’re not making any sense. Take a deep breath. I want to help, I really do, but I need to know what is going on before I can help. What happened?”</p>
<p>He took the deepest breath his panicking lungs would let him, before---</p>
<p>“Technoblade!” the voice over the intercom made him jump, shaking his already panicked body, “you are on in twenty minutes. Get ready.”</p>
<p>That wasn’t enough time. There was so much he needed to do. He needed to explain why he was in so much trouble to his father. He needed to beg for forgiveness. He needed to call Wilbur and…..</p>
<p>“Techno!” Phil’s voice was high and panicked, he could start making out the sounds of moving on the other side. Techno felt slack. Loose and devoid of emotions. Before there were too many, and now he was just empty. He was overwhelmed. This was all his fault. “Techno I am going to be there as fast as possible. Stay safe until I get there. Do not move! I am going to give Wilbur and Tommy a call, they are already in the city, so they should get there before I do. Please, please, be safe. I need to hang up now, but I am on my way now. If….”</p>
<p>There were more words. Techno knew that more words were pouring out of his father’s mouth in a panic for his son, but he could not listen to them. Time passed in seconds. At one point, he had gotten up and started to slip into his royal costume that he wore in the fights. Whether that was before or after he had been yelled at by someone, he did not know.</p>
<p>He was being ushered through a hallway. His body felt heavy, and the sword in his hands almost dragged on the floor. The roaring echoes of a crowd got closer and close, already riled up from a night of bloodshed and violence. They had been teased all night of seeing the fight of the century, the return of the Blood God, and they demanded a show.</p>
<p>It was not until the metal door in front of him started to rise, when the crowd was in front of him again, did he could back to his senses.</p>
<p>“Go get them, tiger,” a voice said behind him, and he was shoved out to the middle of the ring.</p>
<p>Phil’s heart dropped. He felt sick. Stomach bile started to rise in his throat, desperately trying to swallow it down again. His hands shook, pressing the device close to his ear. His legs felt like jell-o. What was happening?</p>
<p>His shaky hand was barely able to pull his coat on, while he frantically scrolled through his phone, looking for Wilbur’s contact. Techno had been on the verge of a meltdown, and Phil could tell just by how slurred and broken his speech was, that his son was starting to disassociate. He tried to bring him out of it, but it was no use.</p>
<p>They needed someone to be there.</p>
<p>Panic was making it hard to breathe. Adrenaline pulsing through his veins but nowhere to go. He needed to move faster, faster, faster….</p>
<p>There was a buzzing in his hand. He snapped at the device, almost throwing his phone in stress, before catching a glimpse of the caller ID.</p>
<p>“Will!” he shouted into the phone, unable to contain it, bolting out of the door.</p>
<p>“Dad, Techno…..”</p>
<p>“What happened? What do you know?”</p>
<p>“He’s in danger. He….fuck! He’s going to fight a zoglin. One that’s drugged, and they have bets against him to help the zoglin fight.”</p>
<p>Phil stopped running, his body forcing him to stop. What had he just heard? What…..</p>
<p>What?</p>
<p>He couldn’t….</p>
<p>What, what, what, what?</p>
<p>“Dad?”</p>
<p>“Get to Techno,” he started to run again, bolting to the portal, “get to him now. I am on my way. But he….”</p>
<p>“We’re on our way. Please, please get here dad.”</p>
<p>Phil burst through the portal, rushing past people. It was crowded and people pushed and shoved, and he wanted to scream. He wanted to scream and kill everyone in his path. They were in his way. They were getting in the way of getting to his son. They were fucking killing his son!</p>
<p>There was a table off to the side that Phil focused on, shoving his way to it, before leaping upon it. There were some gasps of surprise and outrage from the people using it, but that did not matter. None of this fucking mattered!</p>
<p>
  <i>Please work, please work, please fucking work! I’ll never forgive myself if I pulled out too many that I can’t fly. I’ll never forgive myself, please!</i>
</p>
<p>With a powerful leap, Phil outstretched his wings, letting them catch the air around him, lifting him into the air. A beat of the limbs lifted him higher into the air, away from the gawking gasps of the people below, children squealing with excitement as they saw the hybrid fly.</p>
<p>Their joy fell of deaf ears, as blood pumped its way through his brain, adrenaline finally having a way to be expended from his body. His body was on autopilot while his brain flipped between mind-numbing static, and running through memories worse than when they had been lived through.</p>
<p>He did not know how to feel. Phil did not know how to process everything that was happening at the moment, and he knew that he had to be there for his sons. But if he was being honest with himself, he did not know much more of this he could take. How much more whiplash of emotions he could keep taking. Of panicked calls from Techno, and near-death experiences. It was overwhelming.</p>
<p>And there had to be someone to blame.</p>
<p>Unsureness turned into blame, and blame turned to anger in the blink of an eye.</p>
<p>He was not angry at Techno. Calling Phil this time was the first thing that his son had done that would be considered normal. There was something else, someone else pulling the strings behind the scenes and he was going to rip them limb from limb forever trying to hurt his family.</p>
<p>Wings beating faster than they had in a while, Phil spotted the stadium over in the distance, the sun setting right behind it. There was an echo of a crowd rising from it, packed with people, and all demanding the same thing: a show.</p>
<p>Phil tucked his wings in, letting his body fall into a dive straight down, scouring for the entrance to the building. Large, sweeping steps were near the front of it, with pillars that shot up into the sky made the giant glass doors very obvious.</p>
<p>A flurry of feathers rained down from the sky in a father’s righteous fury, as he landed in front of the building, using the rebound and moment from his landing to move him forward. The wind ripped through his hair, towards the chaotic crowd that no longer consisted of individual people, but of a collective. Egging, and begging to be entertained by the very basics of violence.</p>
<p>A collective versus a single man.</p>
<p>A man versus the demands of a virus that had wormed its way into his son's brain.</p>
<p>The system that ordered Techno to break himself over and over and over for the entertainment of others, while his family was forced to watch from the sidelines, hoping that he was going to take another breath.</p>
<p>His wings wrapped around him as Phil burst through the glass doors, protecting him from the shards that flew every which way. His geta sandals clicked on the hard tiles of the building, staring down the security guards that scrambled to attention in front of him.</p>
<p>Phil did not stop. He could not stop. Every moment could be a moment that would end in tragedy.</p>
<p>A burst of wind rushed past the guards, and up the stairs, flying in spaces that allowed for his large wingspan. People jerked out of the way, shouting in surprise while pulling others out of the way.</p>
<p>Rage grew as the crowds got closer and closer and….</p>
<p>He burst through one of the curtains, finding himself in the stands of the stadium. Rushing down the steps, Phil caught himself at the edge of the railing, with glass in front of him. Below was a ring, larger than anything he had ever seen in his life, with every inch of it covered in dirt. He had seen this before. The stadium had the potential to change shapes, turning into floating islands where the combatants were fighting in between, a void of nothingness below them that would send them right to respawn.</p>
<p>Standing in the middle of the ring was a giant shaking creature, shivering as the fading sunlight started to zombify its flesh, growing the tusks and rotting the flesh with rapid pace.</p>
<p>And off to the side, standing in absolute shock, as Techno. His jaw slack with panic, watching his opponent be changed right in front of him.</p>
<p>Right above the ring was a giant john-ton that displayed flashy, oversaturated advertisements for the fight, getting people hyped up for the event.</p>
<p>“Nether Abomination vs. the Blood God”</p>
<p>People cheered.</p>
<p>People laughed all around, getting food and drinks while waiting for the show to begin, drunk on their bloodlust.</p>
<p>It was disgusting.</p>
<p>The newly made zoglin started to shake its head in irritation, looking back and forth in the ring, looking for anything to attack.</p>
<p>Its eyes landed on….</p>
<p>“Techno!”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>The light disappeared from the tips of the person’s fingers, releasing the guard. Wilbur held tightly onto Tommy’s hand, refusing to let his little brother go, but by the way that the teen stuck close to his older brother, he doubted that he wanted to be let go anyway.<p>“Go, I have it here,” the man said, adjusting his sunglasses, looking at the unconscious guards under him.</p>
<p>This had been the way that they had found their way into the stadium. Niki frantically calling their other sibling, begging for his help, and a very tall, crowned king showed up less than twenty minutes later. A scowl on his face, giving his siblings a sharp nod, before starting to make their way to the building.</p>
<p>Finding an out of the wayside entrance, before the king had stepped forward, placing a hand on the guard's foreheads. A bright light, and the men were on the ground.</p>
<p>Wilbur gave a sharp nod, before rushing inside of the building, Niki, Fundy, and Ranboo close behind. He felt like he could not breathe, his body automatically going through the motions of taking in air, but he did not register it. He felt empty.</p>
<p>As empty as the halls that they ran through. Pretty, soft red carpet covered the entire ground, the walls made out of metal, angular, and modern, with the sickening smell of greasy food hanging in the air. The world started to fill with the loud cries of the ground, barely contained by the thick curtains that covered the entrances to where the actual stands were.</p>
<p>Wilbur made a beeline to the closest one and threw it open, squeezing Tommy’s hand as he did.</p>
<p>There was a faint, weak squeeze back.</p>
<p>This was fucked.</p>
<p>The stands were packed, everyone was standing on their feet, cheering, and chanting, eyes glued to the ring in front of them. The stadium had an open hole in the center of it, while the edges, where the seats were, were covered. Salespeople walked around, shouting their prices while children screamed, sometimes only because their parents were.<br/>Wilbur’s eyes stayed on this one child. He could not be more than seven years old, with a cheap paper crown proudly in his head, emerging out of his short brown hair. In one hand was a corndog, and the other was a plastic sword, a certain twinkle in his eye as he stayed looking at the fighting ring in front of him. Going along with everyone else, chanting ‘Blood for the Blood God.’</p>
<p>He was so young. And he had no idea that his hero was a broken older brother, son, person. To him, he was just a monster that fought.</p>
<p>It was a cesspool of guilty pleasure to see people fight to the death, knowing that they would be back later, thanks to respawn. A time when people did not need to think. They could conform to the rest of the people around them, letting the crowd think for them. Following blindly to what the billionaires who said that they should be enjoying their time here, that they should save up for months to get an opportunity to watch a bloody, brutal fight.</p>
<p>That child was with his parents, occasionally looking up to the adults to get cues on what he was supposed to do and copying whatever the adults were doing. His big, mostly toothless grin plastered on his face as he joined in with the mass that was no longer people but a single being that demanded blood.</p>
<p>And the corporations were happy to supply.</p>
<p>Wilbur slid to a stop at the very front railing, shoving people out of his way, desperate to get there. Tommy slid to his side, scanning the ring in front of them, looking for someone they knew.</p>
<p>They were still cleaning up from the previous fight, the floating islands getting retracted into the floor under them, while blood was scraped off of the walls. He would have breathed out for a moment, relieved that they were in time, when the cleaning crew drew away, and a voice started over the intercom.</p>
<p>“Ladies, and Gentlemen! It is time for the moment you have been waiting your entire night for!” Wilbur wanted to scream. This could not be happening. “Having been gone for a week, the Blood God is back, and he is ready to fuck shit up!”</p>
<p>The crowd cheered. The siblings joined him and Tommy at the railing. People shoved all around them, bidding for a good place to watch the show away from their seats. The anger that had been simmered for a while started to bubble up more in his chest.</p>
<p>“But! We were not just going to bring him back and not give you all a show! No-no-no. We need to make an event. We need to make it memorable, to celebrate the return of our favorite monster from the Nether.”</p>
<p>Wilbur gripped the cold railing under his hands. How fucking dare they.</p>
<p>The crowd cheered.</p>
<p>“And what better way to do that than to make him fight another abomination from his home realm. Ladies and Gentlemen, we have something very special planned for you today. If you would please look at the fighting ring before you, you will see that there are no new islands put up, but back to the basics. Packing in dirt, and the will to survive are the only things that are going to keep the contestants alive.</p>
<p>“So shall I say, monstrosities!”</p>
<p>The crowd whooped and cheered, sitting on the edge of their seats to see what was going to happen next.</p>
<p>“Now you may be thinking, ‘Jeff, what kind of creature would even begin to oppose the strongest warrior in Hypixel?’ Well, what we are bringing out now you may have only heard about in tales.”</p>
<p>There was a loud rawr, and thrashing noise, chains clinking together. The unseen shouts of people who understood how dangerous this was.</p>
<p>“Behold! A hoglin!”</p>
<p>The gates burst opened with terrified, furious anger as the beast ran out, thrashing his head back and forth in rage. The crowd went wild, gasping at the display of the creature before them, flashes of pictures covered the air.</p>
<p>It covered the agonizing scream that erupted out of Wilbur’s throat as soon as he saw the creature. A cry of a brother who knew what was going to happen, the last attempt to try to stop it when he had nowhere else to plead to, to at least plea to the creature to not kill his brother.</p>
<p>A plea drowned out by the drunken bloodlust of the monsters around him. Insignificant, and irrelevant. His scream did not matter.</p>
<p>“Now what you are going to be seeing here is something that you have never seen before! Watch.”</p>
<p>The hoglin started to curl around itself in tortured pain, starting to feel the effects of the sunlight on its delicate, Nether-resistant skin. It groaned in pain, trying to shrink away from the rays to the far corners of the ring. There was no relief as green spots started to decay in its skin, crackling from the sun.</p>
<p>The blood-thirsty mass drank it up. </p>
<p>The newly made zoglin’s eyes started to cloud over with red, looking for something to get its aggression out of. Pacing the stage dangerously.</p>
<p>“What you see before you here in a zoglin. A process that happens when hoglins are exposed to the overworld sunlight. Even more aggressive than before, these little beauties will kill anything that it sees, with no regard for its own safety.</p>
<p>“But how will this zoglin react to meeting the unkillable Blood God! Bring him out!”</p>
<p>Another gate opened, and someone was shoved out. A disoriented, glassy-eyed, Technoblade, holding a loose grip on his sword. He looked immediately overwhelmed when he heard the crowd around him, searching around for an escape but finding nothing.</p>
<p>The mass cheered.</p>
<p>And above it all, was a single broken cry. Wilbur had to check to make sure it was not coming from his own throat before his attention was snapped across the stadium.</p>
<p>Phil. Grabbing the railing with every ounce of straight he had, eyes wide in terror as he looked at the scene that was starting to unfold in front of him, voice cracking with grief as his scream rose above the demands of the mass all around them.</p>
<p>“Techno!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope everyone is doing alright! I was not expecting to not write for like a week, and honestly missed it. Typing keys on a computer is oddly relaxing. Hopefully be back on an actual normal uploading schedule, and not just absolute insanity, and that dissapearing for a week. But writing is honestly where I find peace, and making this story (and others like it) makes me really happy. So it'll probably be back to insanity update schedule, which I am not complaining about, I actually really like it (but don't quote me on that, it's just whatever happens and when I get time to write).</p>
<p>Enough of me rambling, I really hope that everyone is having a good day, and....um.....next chapter is going to be something. I'm excited for it :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Welcome to the Show of Lifetime, The Death of Your Humanity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I have had this specific chapter rolling around in my head for literal months now. And it is finally here.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eret took long strides down the main halls of the building, shaking the remains of his magic off of his hands as he walked. Letting the colors hold in the air for a moment before disappearing. The red cloak swayed behind him, high boots clicking with every step, only muffled by the thick carpet.</p>
<p>The panic in Niki's voice had shaken up such an intense fear, he never wanted to feel it again. Shaking their being to its very core.  The way he could feel the terror radiating off of his sister’s body. He had never run faster to the portal, starting to feel the charge of magic building up in his hands as he went.</p>
<p>His siblings had left his protective care a few years back. While he was nervous to let the family that he had created for himself go, they were never going to hold them back from following their own paths. And that path had been opening a cafe, one that they all shared and loved with all of their hearts. They even popped by every once in a while to help out, and chat.</p>
<p>It had been a while since their last meet-up, life getting in the way, but all of the siblings understood, and knew the mutual love that all held for each other.</p>
<p>And that just made it all the more important to Eret when he heard his sisters cry for help.</p>
<p>A piglin. A friend was in danger, potentially going to get himself killed if he was not careful.</p>
<p>The scenario sounded familiar, and their mind had drifted to the piglet he had given to Phil all those years ago.</p>
<p>As soon as they had laid their eyes on the curly-haired man who desperately held the hand of his younger, blonde sibling, his heart sank. It was the same one. He had met the other children that Phil had adopted years ago. They had the spitting image of those children, and really, what other piglins were there?</p>
<p>The group had been fast, and Eret himself had made quick work of the guards, sending the others ahead of him while he made sure that they were not all going to get arrested as soon as they had saved their brother.</p>
<p>The crowd was deafening even behind the heavy curtains. Loud cheers, and a cacophony of demands that would be too much for a single person.</p>
<p>A single cry barely rose above the rest of them in an anguished, broken cry. One that he had heard before, but it had been years since he had. One that deafened them to the good in the world and saw only the pain.</p>
<p>The cry of a parent to a dying child.</p>
<p>Phil.</p>
<p>Eret broke into a run. Bolting to the nearest curtain and throwing it open.</p>
<p>It was chaos. People stood in their seats, ravenous and hungry for the display below. A giant jumbotron showed the diseased and decaying flesh of a zoglin, pacing around, shaking its head with irritation, and pounding its hooves on the ground. Scraping the dirt back territorially, staring down its opponent.</p>
<p>And on the other side, standing as still as a statue, with unmistakable terror in his eyes, was Techno. That little piglet that he had held so close to his chest, cooing softly to try to offer some soft comfort to the small child. Letting his voice rumble in his chest, feeling the piglet snuggle closer to him, promising a life better than the one he had been subject to before.</p>
<p>There he had. Staring his executioner right in the eyes.</p>
<p>And across the stadium, screaming his head off, was the Angel of Death. His voice carried above the chaos of the crowd. There were dents in the railings where he was grabbing onto it so tight, blonde, unwashed hair falling around his face, while his normal bucket had pushed back.</p>
<p>He was hysterical.</p>
<p>Before Eret stood the lineup of his siblings but as well as Wilbur and Tommy. Fundy’s ears were pressed against his head, while purple particles and anxiety rolled off of Rnaboo, and Niki pressed a hand close against her mouth.</p>
<p>Wilbur was shaking the railing, like it would break if he shook it enough, and he could run in a save his brother. Tommy looked ready to jump over the side and intervene.</p>
<p>The avian beat him to it.</p>
<p>And the zoglin beat the avian, lowering his head low, and charging.</p>
<p>The first hit was painful. Techno was looking right at his father, distracted as the giant head of the Nether boar drove its tusks towards him.</p>
<p>It was a last-minute instinct reaction that allowed Techno to jump off to the side, dragging the sword with him.</p>
<p>There was a loud crash, from above the stadium, and everyone looked over.</p>
<p>“Fuck!” Phil screamed, standing on top of the forcefield that covered the entire fighting ring.</p>
<p>Oh fuck.</p>
<p>That was bad.</p>
<p>Eret bolted into action, running up to join the rest of the siblings at the front, having to shove past the ecstatic crowd around him. They were like starved beasts, overcome with the need for blood. They were worse than wild and starved beasts. Creatures killed for a purpose, to live and survive. These things demanded violence for their entertainment.</p>
<p>It was a hair’s breadth away from Eret’s home realm. A society collapse away from being a cruel reality that they had seen so many people grow up in. The one he had been raised in. It was mentally that he was used to seeing and was disgusted to have to face again.</p>
<p>It made them sick.</p>
<p>Forcing their way past hot bodies, Eret was pushed forward, catching themself on the bar, right next to Fundy.</p>
<p>The fox hybrid turned and looked at him with miserable eyes.</p>
<p>The crowd erupted in cheers as Techno started to slash at the beast with uncoordinated movements.</p>
<p>“Eret! Do something!” his younger brother shouted, turning his eyes away from the scene in front of him in a futile attempt to maintain innocent. But it was addicting. Eret knew that. So he did not blame Fundy for having to look.</p>
<p>“Eret please do something!” Niki pleaded, tears streaming down her face.</p>
<p>There was a loud crash. Eret’s attention was drawn back to Phil. The avian had ripped off some piece of metal nearby and was taking swings at the force field under him, using his wings to balance himself on the slippery surface. He screamed at every hit. Even the forcefield shuttered at every hit but still stood strong against the onslaught of punishment that Phil gave.</p>
<p>“Eret!” Niki shouted again, snapping Eret back to the fight in front of him.</p>
<p>There were minor amounts of blood that had been drawn, all of it from the zoglin, a deep cut on its shoulder that leaked oozy, decaying blood.</p>
<p>That, in no way, meant that Techno was winning. The piglin breathed heavily, with hazy breaths, slumping in his stance, unable to even hold up his sword. His limbs were started to shake, even swaying on his hooves a bit, before putting a hoof behind him to steady his unstable body.</p>
<p>The zoglin lowered its head and started to charge again.</p>
<p>Techno rolled out of the way, stumbling upright again, before taking another swipe at the creature.</p>
<p>Eret ripped off his sunglasses, letting his pure white eyes glow with power, before looking at the creatures before him.</p>
<p>The zoglin was drugged, the power giving him unnatural speed and agility, even slowly repairing the wound that Techno had given it.</p>
<p>There was only so much that they could do with a force field in the way, but they could even out the fight a bit.</p>
<p>Eret stared at the being of the zoglin, the rest of the world going dark, before immediately grabbed onto it. It trashed back, arrogantly trying to move out of their grip, and get away. They dug their fingers into it, refusing to let it go, before reaching his hand into the very being of the zoglin. He found the strings of power that had been artificially placed into the creature, and gave them a hard tug, ripping them clean out of the boar.</p>
<p>There was a loud squeal that shocked Eret back into his body, crumbling to his knees as he did, shaken.</p>
<p>Two people were at his side in a moment, slowly opening their eyes to see Ranboo and Fundy next to him, with Niki, crouched in front of him.</p>
<p>“It’s ok,” he croaked, slowly starting to get up, shoving down the feeling of bones grinding together. He would be alright. Techno might not be alive in the next few moments. “I’ve taken the potions out of the zoglin, but that’s about all I can do with the forcefield in the way.” he looked at Wilbur and Tommy, who had their eyes glued to the ring below them. Eret doubted that they would hear anything that he said, but the words would keep burning in him if he did not. “I’m sorry.”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>Techno huffed in effort before sliding out of the way of another charge from the zoglin. The creature was much bigger than the piglin and was very reckless in its movements. But it had the luxury to be reckless. It had a thick hide, with layers of muscle and fat under than before he could get to any sort of vital organs without flipping the creature over. Very few of his blows had caused any sort of actual damage.<p>And each swing was taking energy. Something that he was quickly losing.</p>
<p>The strength potion was wearing off. He was going to be left with a half recovered body that was not going to be able to hold himself up, much less defend himself.</p>
<p>And as soon as he took one hit, it was all going to be over. He could only hope that the blow would knock him out, and the respawn star that hung around his neck would feel his heart slow down and teleport him back out to where he had set his bed.</p>
<p>And pray to the gods that he would not get a wound fatal enough that people would have a chance to patch him up when he did get teleported back, before the blood drained from his body, leaving a corpse behind.</p>
<p>There was another loud crash.</p>
<p>Techno glanced up. Phil was still there, slamming the metal pile into the forcefield before drawing back and going again.</p>
<p>All he had to do was hold out until the avian was able to breakthrough. That was it. There was nothing that his father could not do. The forcefield would break before Phil did. That was just who Philza Minecraft was.</p>
<p>“No!” Techno’s head snapped to where the scream came from. His heart sank.</p>
<p>There were ropes tied around Phil’s wings, and more ropes started to be thrown toward him, pulled right against his beautiful black wings. People stood on the other side of the railing, pulling the ropes towards them. Phil adjutes his stance, trying to fight against the ropes.</p>
<p>“No! Stop, that’s my son!”</p>
<p>The crowd did not fall silent at the words, even when they carried up and over the collective voices. But phones started to flash, focus shifted from the fight to the scene unfolding in front of them.</p>
<p>Techno turned his body to face his father. He wanted to go up there and rip the ropes off of the avian's wings. Phil did not deserve that. He deserves to be free. He deserved….</p>
<p>There was a flash of pain of pure, hard bone wracked into him.</p>
<p>His body slammed into the concrete wall behind him, before falling forward.</p>
<p>A ring of pain burst through him, a sickening feeling on the hit in his stomach, and bouncing off of the wall.</p>
<p>“No!”</p>
<p>The boar charged again, this time pinning him to the wall with his head.</p>
<p>His insides were being ground up, squished against each other, and his spin was going to snap.</p>
<p>He screamed.</p>
<p>“Let me go! Please, he’s going to die! Let me fucking go!”</p>
<p>His eyes blurred with tears, gritting his teeth together. Fuck, it hurt.</p>
<p>His brain focused on the crowd around him for a moment. They seemed torn between watching him suffer and the scene that Phil was causing.</p>
<p>Phil.</p>
<p>His brothers were here too.</p>
<p>He was letting them down.</p>
<p>The zoglin moved away, and he crumbled to the ground, barely catching himself on his knees. His vision was white with pain, curling around where it felt like his guts had been blended up and the mush shoved back into him. Breathing hurt, a stabbing pain in his chest.</p>
<p>“Technoblade!” the cry broke his heart. The fact that it was getting fainter made him want to die. “Let me fucking go! You’re going to kill him! He’s going to fucking die! Technoblade!”</p>
<p>The words fueled the crowd and they started to rage louder, and louder, and it was pounding against his head, and they were demanding blood, and he needed to get up and….</p>
<p>A few pounded steps were the only preparation that he got. Before there was a stabbing, ripping feeling at the center of his stomach. Lifted into the air, hooves dangling under him, and back pressed against the concrete wall.</p>
<p>It did not hurt. Maybe it was his sluggish brain trying to process what was happening to him when he looked down at the snout of the zoglin in front of him.</p>
<p>And followed it to the tusk that had gored his stomach, creating a gaping hole in him.</p>
<p>His mouth slacked open. Blood started to dribble out, staining the fur of the zoglin, and soaking into his white shirt.</p>
<p>It did not hurt.</p>
<p>But he felt tired. His body felt like it was a doll, held together with string. A single pull would make his limbs fall off.</p>
<p>His eyes rolled back, mouth open in a silent cry, while the hysterical scream of his father echoed in his head.</p>
<p>“Let me fucking go! Techno! Let me go! He’s going to die! Please! Fucking please you heartless monsters, just let me -- Techno!”</p>
<p>His consciousness started to slip, his brain started to slow. More blood forced its way out of his mouth, rubbing all over his tusks.</p>
<p>It was numbing being in this position. At the mercy of someone else. Was it how all of those people felt when he slashed through them without care? Was this how it felt to be so close to death that you could taste it? Staring his mortality in the face, all Techno could think was of how he wanted a more poetic end.</p>
<p>Stabbed by a being from his realm, in a fighting pit created by the most animalistic parts of society. Those who did not see the beauty in fighting but used it to tap into the primal parts of people’s minds. The one that wanted to see blood. They did not see the respect and honor that fights held. They saw money.</p>
<p>Techno laughed, his diaphragm barely able to move up and down. It might be torn. Sparks of pain started to lazily ripple through his body, but he kept laughing.</p>
<p>It was funny.</p>
<p>He was going to die a product. Performing for others. Not as a person, but a thing. And the crowd was eating it up.</p>
<p>Fuck it. If they wanted a show.</p>
<p>His eyes filmed over with red, instincts started to take over his being. And before him was a target.</p>
<p>Techno braced his hands on the snout of the creature and pressed his back against the wall more. It jostled the tusk that was embedded in him.</p>
<p>The red faded for a second at the pain, but he forced it back up. He was not done yet.</p>
<p>With a primal scream, Techno pushed the zoglin away, starting to remove the tusk from its place in his stomach.</p>
<p>It fucking <i>hurt.</i></p>
<p>And the crowd cheered.</p>
<p>Techno gritted his teeth together, trying to keep the scream in his throat as it bubbled up, and up. He was sure his teeth were going to shatter.</p>
<p>The zoglin trashed its head, the tusk just barely catching the edge of the wound.</p>
<p>He fell to the ground, wailing in pain. His jaw ached with how it stretched, screaming, crying, clenching the wound feebly with one of his blood-covered hooves. Chest still heaving for breath, but the air was so thick around him, suffocating him.</p>
<p>The Nether boar backed up, pounding its hooves heavily against the ground, turning to face the piglin.</p>
<p>Techno lifted his head. The red faded from his vision, and he was alone. Not even his instincts were going to save him now. The star had not activated, his heart had not dropped below the threshold. He was not sure if it was going to drop before the zoglin crushed his head against the concrete wall behind him. Brains splattered, and bits of skull sticking to the beast's fur. His brothers were going to have to see that.</p>
<p>Dropping his head, Techno offered up a silent apology. There were so many things to apologize for, but he was running out of time.</p>
<p>His vision started to blur more and more, the ground doubling under him. Maybe he would die of blood loss before the zoglin was able to get a final blow in.</p>
<p>He did not want that. He wanted to die like a warrior. Killed, not dragged down by the blood was that steadily seeping out of his body. Everything was fuzzy, the pain barely registering, as the hooves started to scrape against the ground again. His head swam with dulled pain, and the beginnings of unconsciousness.</p>
<p>There was a spark. A ping of bright light. A warm light centered on his chest and spread out, encasing him in warmth, vines holding him gently.</p>
<p>A weak, weak smile stretched across his face. His heart rate had dipped. The respawn star had activated.</p>
<p>Techno’s vision went black, icy hot vines picking him up, before it slowly, ever so slowly deposited him on a bed, blurry vision started to come back. Immediately, his body slumped.</p>
<p>He had lost.</p>
<p>Hands were on him in a second, touching his sensitive skin. Techno would have winced if he was conscious enough to even really feel it. Someone roughly grabbed his face, squashing it to force his mouth open, and placing a glass vial in it.</p>
<p>“N-no,” he whimpered, a heavy, limp arm trying to reach up and grab them. Make them stop. His vision was starting to go. “Wait.”</p>
<p>The vial tipped. The potion rolled into his mouth. Someone rubbed his throat up and down, making sure that he swallowed it.  His hoove weakly pawed at the hand that was holding onto him, trying to shove it away. This was not the way to deal with wounds. This was going to cause more harm than good.</p>
<p>The person shook his face, snapping it one way and then the other. His brain wracked around in his skull, vision dancing with black spots, making his arms drop with exhaustion. A pitiful whine echoed in his throat at the movement.</p>
<p>“Shut up,” the person said, most likely one of the nurses that dealt with fighters when they respawned. “And stop it, this is going to help.”</p>
<p>“No, it’s….”</p>
<p>It felt like a punch in the gut. That someone had grabbed onto either side of the wound in his stomach with clawed hands and was stretching to put them back together. Pulling at the faded muscle and skin, trying to force them back together. Because that was what was happening.</p>
<p>The regeneration potion was trying to force his body back together, but it had already been through the wringer. There was no natural healing to help or speed it, so it was forcing his body to restore itself.</p>
<p>Techno screamed. He screamed at the top of his lungs, twisting around, and writhing in the bed, trying to get away from the pain that was in his own body.</p>
<p>The nurse let go and backed away, a shocked and frightened look on her face. Her eyes were the size of dinner plates, watching Techno fall off of the bed, and trying to grab the stone floor with his fingers.</p>
<p>“Make it stop!” his throat scratched with pain, his vocal cords strained against the pain, trying to keep themselves together, “fucking, make it stop!”</p>
<p>Footsteps started to slam against the stone floor, and more hands were on him.</p>
<p>Techno threw his head back. A scream ripped through, as lightning pain made everything go an unbearably hot lava white.</p>
<p>“Stop! Please stop!”</p>
<p>His chest was burning for air, struggling with every breath, while his flesh tried to artificially knit itself back together again, stretching across his bones, and filling in the gaps.</p>
<p>Bile rose in his throat, retching at his stomach.</p>
<p>Bending, the other arms that were holding him barely about to keep him upright, as Techno vomited onto the floor, hearing a sickening wet sound hit the ground. His eyes squinted open. They were covered in tears, his oversensitive skin alive with wires that dug into his skin every time someone touched him. Legs shaking under the very small amount of weight he was carrying, the piglin felt like his head had been fried. All rubbery and mushy, unable to even try to hold a thought.</p>
<p>His tongue hung out of his mouth limply, unable to even out the muscle back into his mouth. And through the hazy fog that covered his mind, and the racket of pain that was so fucking loud, he could see spots of blood in his vomit under him.</p>
<p>“Oh fuck.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>...</p>
<p>Sooo, how we feeling?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. What do You Mean You Don't Want a Son?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I think everyone needs a break, so this is purely just fluff. Like two seconds of angst and that's it. The rest is cute baby Techno and King Eret fluff.</p>
<p>Also, Phil is there too.</p>
<p>Lore yesterday was super heavy, so make sure that you all are taking care of yourselves. Lore is fun, but only when you are in the right headspace to deal with lore.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eret walked down the long halls of the castle, their boots clicking against the stone, echoing off of the walls around. The little bundle still pressed against him but had his head poking out, looking around in wonder of the building around the two. His little ears flapped each time he moved his head, the little hooved hands never left their grip on the king’s shirt.</p>
<p>They could not help but smile at the little piglet. The way his snout moved in curiosity, occasionally looking back to the adult that held him, making sure that certain things were ok. When he noticed particularly fascinating things, he would pull on Eret’s shirt, pointing with a huge innocent grin on his face and a few happy squeals. His little tusks were just starting to grow in, pressing up past his upper lips, making the smile even cuter.</p>
<p>He was cute. And small. Much too small for a healthy piglet size. He would need some clothes as well, and Eret wanted to keep him around for a few days to make sure that the potion did not do anything screwy to his delicate system. That, and they needed to give Phil a call, let the avian know that he would have a son soon.</p>
<p>Hopefully.</p>
<p>The two had not spoken in a few months, both busy with setting up their brand new servers while also getting away from the hustle and bustle of the main cities. Eret, himself, was almost done with the refuge town and then would start advertising it. He was excited to have people living here soon. As much as they needed time to heal and repair themselves from their own trauma, he was starting to miss people. Just the gentle noises that people made when they lived peacefully. The silence was filled with tender movements and tasks, smiles and laughter etched in the air. Being alone was nice, but he was done with it.</p>
<p>And having the new little guest was just what he needed.</p>
<p>“Let’s get you some actual clothes,” Eret said to the piglet, “but a bath before. And then some food. We’ll give Phil a call soon. Maybe you can meet him tomorrow.”</p>
<p>The piglet looked at him with large chocolate brown eyes, wide at the words that he did not understand. His little tail swished back and forth a bit before he returned to looking at the halls that passed them by.</p>
<p>Eret chuckled.</p>
<p>The marble tub slowly filled up with warm water. Even if the little boy was a creature of the Nether and heat, most likely, did not affect him, they still wanted to be safe. Lavender subs started to bubble up, creating little mountains of bubbles, while Eret started gently pulling the literal rags off of the piglet.</p>
<p>“Let me know if it’s too hot,” he said, lifting the piglet before placing him in the water.</p>
<p>He squealed a little when it touched his hoof, reaching his arms back, and throwing them around Eret’s neck, and pulling his small body away from the foreign substance.</p>
<p>“No, no, no, it’s ok,” the king rubbed his back a little, letting the piglet calm down before shifting him over to his hip. “Watch.”</p>
<p>Eret plunged his hand into the water, swishing it around a little, scooping up bubbles before letting them fall off of his hand back into the tub.</p>
<p>“See, it’s safe.”</p>
<p>The child looked in wonder at the way that the liquid moved, and dripped off of their fingers. He started to reach out for it, almost falling out of Eret’s arms, before he could catch the excited little thing and place him into the tub.</p>
<p>He tensed a little when the water hit his fur but eventually relaxed into it, making little hills of suds with his hooves.</p>
<p>Eret fished out some rose-scented soap, and wetted it, dragged it across the piglet’s fur. Every movement was watched with intense focus, so he made sure to go as slow as he could, telegraphing each action so he did not startle the skittish child. Eventually, they both started to relax into the roles. The piglet played with the suds, separating them out in front of him with currents or blowing on them, watching the way that the bubbles would fly into the air, while Eret scrubbed the grime and Netherrack out of his fur.</p>
<p>They were really glad that the child was so enamored by the soap because it took a very long time to get every bit of his fur clean. The water turned a sickening brown, and Eret was quick to fish him out of there, wrapping the piglet up into a warm, fluffy towel. The red had faded significantly, leaving behind cute, thick pink fur that smelled of roses and the new smell that only babies had. He was relieved that the child still had that much innocence left in him.</p>
<p>Slipping a too-large sweater over the piglet’s head, and maneuvering his hooves through the holes was a bit of a hassle but they were both patience in the process. They had seemed to have gotten some trust from the younger, allowing them to gently hold and move his limbs in the way that they needed to go.</p>
<p>Little overalls were pulled into his legs, clicking the straps together. The sweater was much too big for him, more of a turtle neck, pushing some of his fur up to his face, but he did not seem to mind, just rubbing his eye and yawning, snuggling down in the sweater.</p>
<p>“Tried little one?” Eret asked, scooping the child up into his arms. Immediately, arms were wrapped around him, a head rested on his chest, sinking into the warmth of his body.</p>
<p>Eret pressed a kiss into the crown of the piglet head, before walking down the halls of the great halls. The castle was huge, and brilliant, with gold, and colors every which way. But it was mostly for show and reassurances. Eret wanted there to be a vault-like place if there was ever a disaster that destroyed the city and people needed a place to do. Big open spaces made him feel too exposed, much preferring smaller places where it was much harder for people to hide and sneak up on them.</p>
<p>There was a little place off in the corner of the castle where Eret had made his home, opening the door to the apartment size space. There was a simple kitchen, with cork floors, with a circle of couches outside of the counters. Large glass windows lined the upper parts of the walls, letting the natural light in. A door off to the side which led to where Eret slept. It was small, the way that he wanted it to be.</p>
<p>Placing the piglet down, they pulled a blanket tightly around him. The piglet grunted a little, pulling his face deeper into the soft fabric, almost encasing his entire face in it.</p>
<p>Their heart swelled at the sight. ‘Awwing’ a little at it before putting a hand over their mouth, not wanting to wake up the tired little guest.</p>
<p>There was still much to do, pulling out their communicator, and scrolled through the very few contacts before landing Phil’s. It would be best to let the old man know if his plans first and not just show up at his house with a kid that he expected the avian to take.</p>
<p>One ring. And another.</p>
<p>“Hello?” It was always nice to hear Phil's voice. There was something about it that was so relaxing</p>
<p>“Phil! It’s been a while.”</p>
<p>“Eret? Hi mate! How have you been? How has the town been going?”</p>
<p>“It’s going, that for sure,” he chuckled, glancing back at the child asleep on his couch. There was a tug on his heart. Was he going to give up this beautiful little thing? There was no doubt in his mind that Phil would take care of the toddler, but….he would be alone. A lonely king again, ruling over a land that had no citizens. Working day after day, with seemingly no end. Was it ever going to be ready, was he ever going to be done? What if this was a pointless project? What if no one came? What if….</p>
<p>“Eret? Mate, you still there?”</p>
<p>Phil’s accented voice pulled him from his thoughts. This was the right decision. He was not ready to be a father, much less to something so small and fragile.</p>
<p>“I have something for you Philza.”</p>
<p>“Oh? What is it?”</p>
<p>“A surprise. Come by tomorrow.”</p>
<p>“It better not be something gross.”</p>
<p>Eret laughed.</p>
<p>“No, it’s not gross. I think you will like it.”</p>
<p>There was a pause, and some shuffling on the other side of the line, before Phil’s voice came through again.</p>
<p>“Yeah, ok I can be by tomorrow. Early afternoon? We can catch up, and I can give you a hand with some of your builds.”</p>
<p>“Much appreciated. And I’ll see you then.”</p>
<p>“Bye mate!”</p>
<p>There, it was done. The piglet would have a father soon, and Eret would be....yeah....</p>
<p>The rest of the night had been slow. Uneventful, Eret pulled a blanket out of the linen closet and took the other couch, taking off the tall boots before stretching out. The room was dark, the only noise was the soft breathing of the piglet, occasionally a soft snout which made them smile each time.</p>
<p>Sleep came easily, the cusp of falling into the darkness was when his arm was lifted, and something crawled under it. Crawling up close to him and pulling the arm close around him, Eret was vaguely aware that the piglet had placed his head onto his chest.</p>
<p>They pulled the toddler in closer, burying his face into the soft baby fur on top of his head, sighing in content. The fact that he was going to be alone again was very, very apparent. A hole started to form in his chest, creating a dull ache as sleep pulled him to rest.</p>
<p>The morning was as just as quiet as the night had been. Soft rays of light lay across his face, gently stirring him from sleep. The piglet was fully laying on his chest, pressed in between their body and the back of the couch.</p>
<p>Eret gently gathered the baby up, letting him adjust to the new hold with little whimpers and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.</p>
<p>After just a day of a full night's sleep and a bath, there was such a big difference. His eyes were brighter, ears perked up a little more, no longer dragged down by the gloom of his environment. They had seen many children grow bitter and cold because of the world they were forced to live in.</p>
<p>Maybe that was why he was drawn to the child. An attempt to save those he knew he had left behind.</p>
<p>Shaking the sad thought out of his head, they cradled the toddler in his arms again, letting the piglet drift in and out of sleep, rocking him gently, while they meandered around the kitchen, pulling out different ingredients to make a simple breakfast. Eggs on toast, whole bread, gods know the skinning kid needed the protein.</p>
<p>Occasionally, the piglet would grunt a little, stirring in his sleep, before Eret rocked him back to sleep. It was an on-off consciousness, before the toddler fully opened his eyes, looking right at Eret above him.</p>
<p>“Goodmorning,” he cooed, “breakfast is almost ready. Let’s get some food in your belly, and then we’ll meet your new dad.”</p>
<p>There was a happy squeal as soon as food was placed in front of the child. He had forgone utensils, obtaining to just shove the pieces of toast into his mouth. Crumbs dust the sides of his mouth, while his legs kicked happily under the table, tail in a constraint rhythm of wagging.</p>
<p>Eret smiled while sipping coffee, eating his own food slowly.</p>
<p>A knock rang through the small apartment-sized cubby hole. There was a 'front door' that lead to the outside. It was much more convenient than going all the way to the large castle gates to just let a friend in.</p>
<p>The toddler’s head snapped to where it had come from. They rubbed the top of his head in comfort before sauntering over to open the door.</p>
<p>“Phil!” The avian’s black wings framed the green coat that he had started to get into the habit of wearing. A small braid peeking out from under his bucket hat, with a sleeveless, tight shirt, with a jovial smile on his face.</p>
<p>“Eret. How are you doing mate?”</p>
<p>“Well,” they gestured for inside, moving out of the way to let him pass. “We were just finishing up breakfast.”</p>
<p>“We?”</p>
<p>There was a shy snort from the table, drawing both of their attention over to where the piglet sat, plate in hand, looking for more food on the empty dish. His chocolate eyes trailed back to where the two adults were, asking for more food, holding the plate out a little, an innocent plea in his eyes.</p>
<p>“Eret!” Phil shouted. His sword was drawn in a second, holding it out in front of him while shoving the otherworldly being behind him. A terrified squeal filled the space, the toddler scrambling out of his chair and hiding under the table, not taking his eyes off of the hybrid man.</p>
<p>“Phil! What are you doing?” Eret shoved the protective arm away before quickly walking over to where the piglet cowered. “You’re scaring him.”</p>
<p>“‘Him?’ Mate that’s a mob. You have a Nether mob in your house. It’s violent, you need to get rid of it.”</p>
<p>Eret squatted down next to the child, opening his arm in a peace offering. Immediately, the piglet hopped into them, hiding his face into their shoulder, only just peeking over to where Phil stood, before squealing and hiding again.</p>
<p>“Look at what you have done,” Eret shushed the shivering toddler, swaying back and forth to try to lull him into a sense of safety once again. “Now he’s all scared.”</p>
<p>“Scared? Do I need to repeat myself? That’s a mob Eret. It’s not a pet. Or a child.”</p>
<p>A beat of silence as they pressed a kiss into the piglet's head, holding him close.</p>
<p>“I-is this what you wanted to show me? You adopted some kind of weird pet.”</p>
<p>“He’s not a pet,” Eret snapped, turning to fully face his friend, but still holding the piglet close. “I gave him playership. He’s a fully sentient being with thoughts and emotions. <br/>And…..I was hoping that you could take him.”</p>
<p>“You want me to, what?!”</p>
<p>“Shh, don’t yell, he does not like it.”</p>
<p>“Oh, I’m sorry, let me lower my voice for a mob….”</p>
<p>“He has playership.”</p>
<p>“That does not change the fact of what he is, Eret. Sure, he’s cute now, and you can dress him up in little outfits but he’s going to grow. And he’s going to turn into a brute. He’s going to grow into a violent creature, playership or not. There’s no way that you can change that. It’s just who he is. He’s a monster.”</p>
<p>“Don’t call him that!” Eret took a step backward, burying his face into the fur of the toddler’s head, trying to keep the tears in his eyes. “He’s different.”</p>
<p>“How do you know that?” Phil crossed his arms, kicking a hip out. He disapproved that much was painfully obvious. This was not going how Eret wanted it to.</p>
<p>“He -- ok -- I’m -- here, just hold him.”</p>
<p>“Eret, I don’t want to….!”</p>
<p>The otherworldly being had already placed the piglet in the avian arms before he could get another word out, taking a step back to make sure that Phil could not hand the child back.</p>
<p>The other scrambled to adjust to the new weight in his arms, cradling under the piglet in instinct and holding him close to his chest to make sure that he did not fall.</p>
<p>There was a slight squeal from the piglet, squirming in the adult's hold, before the noise dyed down. His eyes trained on something on Phil's head.</p>
<p>His snout twitched, a beat of silence between the two. Before the piglet reaching up a hand and entangled it into Phil’s hair. It was gentle, much more gentle than a person would think a toddler capable of</p>
<p>Phil froze at how careful the bundle stroked his hair, feeling the ridges of his braid. Happy squeals escaping his newly tusked mouth. His eyes trained down the rest of the adult, taking in the person who was holding him. After a moment, the piglet grabbed the edges of his coat and opened it before tucking himself in the space between the avian’s chest and arm, snuggling down, wrapping the coat tight around him.</p>
<p>Eret watched the display of tenderness between the two, watching the tension fall from his friend's shoulders. Before, Phil held the child just because it had been put on him, trying to lean away from the creature. But now, the avian had relaxed, actually wrapping his arms softly around the child and holding him close. There was a new mushy tenderness in his eyes. Something that Eret had never seen before. The kind of tenderness that could turn to protective rage in a second.</p>
<p>The eyes of a father.</p>
<p>To say the least, Eret was pleased with themselves.</p>
<p>“He’s so small,” Phil whispered, looking at the drifting-off piglet in his coat, his head trying to process the amount of trust that was being put into him at the moment. “Why is he so small? That can’t be healthy.”</p>
<p>“I assume his herd must have been killed, he was all alone when I found him,” Eret replied, walking next to the pair. “That, or he wandered away. The Nether is a hard place to live, especially for a baby.”</p>
<p>“He’s just a baby. There is no way he could have lived on his own. Who would do such a thing?”</p>
<p>Phil’s voice was soft, barely even a whisper, most likely his thoughts taken to the air. But they were dripping with an underlying rage and protectiveness, it almost made Eret take a step back.</p>
<p>“Is he going to be ok?” Phil turned to face them, curling around the piglet a little more, “he’s a piglin, is the sun going to hurt him. Does he have to stay inside during the day?”</p>
<p>“I gave him a potion to make sure that he would not get hurt by the sun, but you two should stay here for a while. We don’t want him to go into the sun and figure out that it did not work. And it’ll give you two a chance to get used to each other.”</p>
<p>“Yeah.” His voice was far off, eyes casting back down to the child. His child.</p>
<p>His son.</p>
<p>The little boy he held so tenderly was his son.</p>
<p>Eret knew that he had put the child into good hands. There was nothing that Philza Minecraft could not do, that was just who he was. He had a way of solving every problem, no matter how hard. And they could tell already, with the way that the avian looked down at the child, that he would give his life for his son.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter was super fun to write! I think I've said this before, but I am in love with baby Techno and Eret. There has never been a better duo. They are just so sweet and cute.</p>
<p>Alright, this has been your special episode of fluff, next chapter we are back to the regularly scheduled program.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. ...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Tags have been updated. There are going to be trauma-related themes from here on out. Just a heads-up. Stay safe out there.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ranboo watched in horror as Techno’s body was consumed by a purple light, feeling his throat close up as the brutalized body completely disappeared. Blood pooled under where the near corpse of his friend had been pinned against the wall, the red streaks that were dripping down from the zoglin’s tusks.</p><p>Screaming.</p><p>The fading screaming of Phil, ruining his throat horse as the security dragged him away. Screaming of Wilbur, leaning over the railing, and shouting down at the creature, while Tommy clung to his brother’s arm with a wide-eyed desperation.</p><p>The people around them cheered, celebrating at the victor. The victor that was just going to get killed later. What other use would someone have for a zoglin rather than to use it for violence? The winner was just going to die.</p><p>The ender hybrid could not move. He could not breathe, feeling the metal under his hands give from how he crushed them. He was dizzy, skin buzzed with anxiety, as he tried to grasp what had just happened in front of him.</p><p>“Technoblade, the Blood God has lost!” the announcer boomed, an overly joyous tone in his voice. Ranboo did not consider himself a very violent person, but, at that moment, he wanted to cut the announcer’s voice box out and crush it with his hands for ever allowing this to happen.</p><p>He was not even sure if he was processing what was going on currently. Everything felt like a dream. Like he was just watching a show. And he was so integrated by it that it felt real. And he would come out of this and be next to his brothers and sister on the couch. Fundy would be falling asleep, and Niki would be readjusting the blanket to cover all of them. Eret would be there too. They would be on the end with an arm around Ranboo, tucking the tall hybrid under his shoulder, snuggled up to his younger brother.</p><p>And they would all fall asleep on the couch and wake up tomorrow with stiff necks, but they would be happy. And he would get up and walk over to Techno’s apartment, and he would be there, and he would be ok. And the piglin would teach him how to fight and oh look Phil and Wilbur, and Tommy was there too and Ranboo’s siblings would come over and they would cook food together and laugh and watch a movie and play board games and play fight a bit and everyone would be ok and Ranboo would be able to look Techno in the eye and not see the bloody broken face of a man who he saw as a brother and there would be no gaping hole in his stomach leaking out blood while he smiled seemingly not phased by it as blood started to drip from his mouth and everyone was acting like this was normal but it wasn’t and</p><p>“Ranboo!”</p><p>A shock ran through the hybrid, forced back into his body, and the world around him. People were still cheering, but that was partially blocked out by Eret standing in front of him, grabbing onto his shoulders, with a kind but worried smile. Anxious.</p><p>“We need to go Ranboo,” his brother said, “we can do that later, but for now other people need us. Can you walk?”</p><p>His voice was gone. Ranboo opened his mouth and tried, he fucking tried, to force the words. To choke them out, to let Eret know that he could be strong. That he could be brave and help. But the words stayed echoing around in his head.</p><p>Ranboo nodded, not letting the fear of muteness weigh on his mind.</p><p>“Can you lead?”</p><p>Another nod.</p><p>“Good, good.” Eret gently grabbed his hand, being cautious with every move. Ranboo no longer felt out of his body but still appreciated the gesture. He gave a nod anyway. That gentleness should be saved for someone who actually needed it. A hand was placed into his own. His eyes followed the arm up to a person. A curtain, glassy-eyed, blonde, who stood completely still. Tommy.</p><p>“Tommy’s not here right now. Mentally. Wilbur ran off, so we need you to guide Tommy. Niki, Fundy, and I are going to find out where they took Techno and if he’s at a hospital.<br/>
Find a bench, preferably someplace quiet, and stay there, and I’ll come get you once we figure out more information. Can you do that?”</p><p>Ranboo could feel himself slip again. His mind was starting to wonder again, leaving behind a shell of a person. Going up into the clouds where he could make what he wanted out of reality and not have to suffer</p><p>He shook his head again.</p><p>This was not the time. Eret’s words echoed in his head. ‘We can do that later.’ Later. Not now. Later.</p><p>Ranboo nodded.</p><p>And they were alone.</p><p>The crowd seemed less rowdy, even if there were blurs of chaos just outside his field of vision. All he could focus on was Tommy. The brash, high-energy teen was reduced to staring at the ground with a blank expression. He almost did not look real. If the experience had been anything like what Ranboo had been experiencing, he did not want to be real.</p><p>The hybrid tugged at the teen’s arm. He followed without resistance. That was good enough.</p><p>After a little bit of wandering around the slowly filling halls, they were able to find a bench. It was made of the same obnoxious modern metal that the entire stadium was made out of, but it did have a very nice window in front of it.</p><p>There was a faint sheen of gold on the dark sky from all of the light that corrupted the night. Stars were not visible, only the shining glow of the city, still alive and just getting started this late. The stadium would clear out, and parkour runs would be on next, ready for another late night of entertainment.</p><p>But here, in front of this window, Ranboo felt an odd sense of calm. He felt guilty about it, but it still washed over him. The sky looked like an ever-setting sun if you looked at it right. And Tommy’s hand was still gripping his.</p><p>If he forgot about the bloody body of Techno, and the way that the entirety of the piglin’s family had screamed, and the violent way that Phil had been arrested, and the fact that<br/>
Tommy was holding onto him for dear life, then it was a peaceful night.</p><p>But those things would be impossible to forget, wouldn’t they? They would be with him for the rest of his life, and there would be no way that he would look at Techno the same anymore. It was funny how seeing someone beat to a bloody plump made the perception of that person change.</p><p>Ranboo wanted to say something profound at this moment. To open his mouth and let the words fall out in a beautiful way that would sum up everything that they had just been thought. To provide a starting point for others to process what had happened. That good could still come out of this situation. Words could make the situation more graspable, rather than an obscure horrible event that happened to them.</p><p>He opened his mouth.</p><p>And nothing came.</p><p>He could not even swear at the situation. And they were left with the nulling silence of tragedy.</p><p>It could have been hours or minutes before he got a ping on his communicator.</p><p>A hospital location.</p><p>Techno was at a hospital.</p><p>No one was coming to get them. They had to get there.</p><p>Ranboo got up much slower than what it felt like, tugging Tommy to a standing position. The blonde followed.</p><p>Plugging the address into his communicator, Ranboo leads the way through the streets, dodging around humans and hybrids alike. Always making sure to keep Tommy an arm’s length close to him, never letting the teen get far away. He was terrified of losing him. Ranboo was not sure if he could handle losing someone else today.</p><p>The hospital was large and looming over the horizon. Framed by the gold that hung in the sky, and a certain dread that always hovered around hospitals. Even if someone was going there for a happy reason, the dread never really left. Maybe it was knowing that people died here.</p><p>As soon as they walked in, there was an eruption of chaos, people were running around, doctors and nurses shouting to each other while shoving each other out of the way.<br/>
Someone grabbed Ranboo’s arm and pulled the two of them out of the way.</p><p>He pulled Tommy in close to make sure that the boy went with him as he was pulled.</p><p>Fundy gave them a sympathetic smile before letting go of his arm. A few other doctors ran past them, down a long hallway, bright lights lining down, reflecting off of the white walls and floors. Through the brightness, Niki and Eret stepped out, Wilbur sandwiched between the two.</p><p>He looked bad.</p><p>His hair was a mess, and there was a manic energy crackling in his eyes that made Ranboo shift uncomfortably. The musician's shoulders were tense and angry. Neither of the siblings touched him, but he could see the faint glow of magic in Eret’s hand. A warning. Border a promise.</p><p>The musician’s eyes snapped up to where Tommy was, holding on to the boy.</p><p>Breaking out of his place in between the two, he took powerful strides towards his younger brother. He ripped their hands apart, glaring at Ranboo a bit, before gathering the younger up into his arms and retreating to a corner in the waiting room, dragging Tommy with him. Pushing two chairs next to each other, Wilbur crawled into one, pulling Tommy close to him, making sure the teen was pushed fully into the corner, and covering the teen with the rest of his body.</p><p>And that was the way that they stayed. Clinging to each other. Sometimes it seemed like Wilbur was protecting Tommy, and other times it seemed like Tommy was keeping Wilbur sane. Eret and Niki had taken care of the paperwork before joining the rest of them. They had chosen seats kind of close to where the two were huddled but made sure to give them some space, not crowding them.</p><p>Fundy had slipped his hand onto Ranboo’s sometime in the space that they had been waiting. The hybrid was grateful for that, giving a squeeze, but kept his eyes looking straight ahead. It was grounding holding his brother’s hand, and just knowing that his entire family was close was helpful. His head rested on Niki’s shoulder, staring off into space.</p><p>There was nothing left to say.</p><p>He was still grappling with that fact.</p><p>There were no poetic words or beautiful analogies to describe how he was feeling.</p><p>There was just raw, pure emotion. Hurt, a tearing pain in his chest whenever he thought about what had happened, one, two, seven hours ago.</p><p>Time moved into slow stops. There was food in his hands at one point. There was water soothing his throat at another. </p><p>The sun started to peek out through the windows, casting off shadows on the back wall. Wilbur and Tommy had not moved, staying curled around each other, like they were the only lifelines left in the world. In a way, that was true.</p><p>None of them had any news about what had happened to Phil, and it had been hours since the last time they had gotten an update on Techno’s surgery.</p><p>Oh yeah. He was getting surgery. They were trying to salvage the severed guts and patch the skin back together while having to ripe the artificially stitched muscle and skin that the health pot had forced together. The doctor had given the rundown to Eret and Niki in hushed voices while they thought that their siblings were asleep. They had done their best to keep the two in the dark about the horrifying details. But they would not talk quietly enough for Fundy’s ears. The two of them had stared at each other in shock after<br/>
Ranboo had forced his brother to tell him everything. They did not share this with Wilbur or Tommy. He was not even sure if they could hear them anymore.</p><p>Ranboo could already feel himself preparing for the worst. Fundy was asleep on his lap while Niki ran her fingers through his hair, Eret’s strong arm wrapped around his shoulders. Techno had become to mean so much to the teen. More than he was never going to be able to express to the piglin. A strong older brother that helped him with homework and taught him how to fight. He would not trade his siblings for anything, but more often than not, they babied him and Fundy. Treating them like children rather than growing teens.</p><p>Techno never did that. He treated Ranboo like an adult, understanding the need to be free for the protectiveness of his family, and wanting to make something of himself. Even going as far as starting to help the teen find a career that he would be happy with. And from what the hybrid had seen of the Minecraft family, this was the environment that Phil created. Adventure, being unapologetically themselves, taking pride in the things that they created, supporting each other in everything that they did. It was a different kind of protectiveness. A kind that was not suffocating or that wanted to hold you close and never let you go, no matter what. It was the kind that allowed people to grow and change and know when it was time to let them go, knowing that they would be back later.</p><p>But Ranboo understood why Eret, and sometimes Niki, were so protective of their younger brothers. They had both had hard lives. His otherworldly brother had told some of his tale before they had become a family. And it made sense why he was so determined to keep his family safe. And while they had let their siblings go, it had been after months of bickering and convincing him that they would be safe. Even with their cafe, Eret came by every once in a while and grilled them to make sure that they were safe and no one was giving them shit.</p><p>One time, Niki mentioned one customer had harassed her, and she had to kick him out.</p><p>He could see the blood pressure in his brother rise, gritting his teeth together as their sister told the story. She had stopped after seeing how much it was affecting Eret.</p><p>That night, there was soft padding out of a window and down the side of the walls, landing on the concrete sidewalk under their little apartment.</p><p>Ranboo did not want to know what had happened to that man. He doubted he was still alive. Eret was violent when he wanted to be.</p><p>It was a side that the otherworldly being hated about himself, so they kept it repressed more often than not. But when it exploded, it was never pretty, and it never ended well.</p><p>“Ranboo?” Eret’s voice shook him out of his thinking. Not violently, just a gentle reminder that he had a body. Ranboo never wanted to have his head out of his body again, like it had been that night. It had not hurt, but it did not feel nice. His body felt like it did not fit as nice as it had before. Like it was loose. Like it was not him anymore. It felt like he had been watching himself through a very tiny screen that he could not escape from. “You spaced out there for a moment.”</p><p>“Yeah. yeah. Just thinking.”</p><p>“We’re probably going to get some food soon. Is there anything that you want?”</p><p>It had been a while since he had eaten. Lunch yesterday if he remembered correctly. It had been a peanut butter and jelly sandwich that Fundy had made for them. They had tea and laughed with each other while eating. He wanted that sandwich. When things had started to get better.</p><p>And then there had been the cookies that Niki had made for them when Fundy had been doing research.</p><p>His stomach churned uncomfortably at the thought of them.</p><p>“Um….nothing really. I’m not really too hungry.”</p><p>Eret frowned. He was always making sure that they got enough to eat. That had been a big priority for him when they had all come under their brother's care.</p><p>“How do bagel sandwiches sound?”</p><p>“I mean, fine. I don’t really care. I don’t know if I’ll even eat, I’m not that…..”</p><p>There was a loud, crashing noise for the entrance, with a booming “Where are they?!” ringing out through the air. Ranboo jumped at this.</p><p>It was too similar.</p><p>It was <i>too similar.</i></p><p>
  <i>It was too fucking similar.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>The gates were opening. The boar stood there, shaking with its newfound transformation, as Techno stood at the very end of the ring. Shaking. Barely able to hold himself up with the gaping hole in his stomach. Guts were slipping out of the hole, spreading out through the floor, crushed under the hooves of the zoglin. Shiney with being exposed to the outside world, coated with drying blood. He was smiling. His tusks were stained with blood. The thick dark liquid dripping out of his mouth. Ranboo was going to watch the light drain from his eyes. He was….</i>
</p><p>“Ranboo! Come on bud, come back to us.”</p><p>His eyes blinked. It took a moment to realize that they were his eyes that were blinking, and not someone else's. Was this his body? It did not feel like it. Did he have a body? Was this real? Was he real? There were hands-on his.</p><p>Maybe that was what made him real.</p><p>Eret was kneeling in front of him, both of his hands encased in his brothers. Why were there tears down his face?</p><p>Why did his face burn?</p><p>“Oh, Ranboo.”</p><p>He felt like an emotionless shell of a person as his brothers and sister wrapped him up in a hug. His half-laden eyes glanced to where Wilbur and Tommy were. Wrapping a wing around each of them was Phil. Hair greasy and stringy, pressing kisses into the crowns of his sons' heads, holding them tight. Wilbur’s face was buried in his shoulder while Tommy wrapped his arms around his father’s waist and nestled his head into his lower chest.</p><p>Protective.</p><p>Suffocating protectiveness radiated off of Phil as he held his boys, eyes alert and snapping between people who even glanced in their direction, glaring daggers at them.</p><p>And for the first time in a while, Ranboo sank into the embrace of his siblings and basked in the danger that Eret barely kept contained. He could not be hurt again. They were here, this was fine. He was fine.</p><p>His body felt a little looser around his mind now.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>To everyone who said that they wanted to stay with fluffy baby Techno, Eret, and Phil content .... no /lh.<br/>But hold onto the hope that they will be back. Maybe.</p><p>I feel like this chapter is a little weirder than the way that I normally write. I really tried to get into the headspace of an aftermath of a traumatic event, so I defiantly tried to make this more raw. There is still flowery language, but just less of it. And the pacing is a bit off, just to get more a more stop-go feeling of not really knowing what is going on after something horrific happens to someone.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. The Hole in My Mind was Where Emotions Used to Be</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter was supposed to be up yesterday, and then I had to re-write like 70% of it. Sometimes, the brain does not do the words good, and I have to rewrite. The sad, sad truth of a writer. I am very tired, this took so long, please why didn't I choose a less strenuous hobby. Why can't I just be normal and chosen something like basketball, why me oh god.....</p>
<p>Also, happy birthday to the big man himself, Tommyinnit!</p>
<p>Also, also, mild gore trigger warning, they talk about Techno's injuries, starting at "As you have heard..." and ending at "Ponk shifted a bit..."</p>
<p>There are also depictions of someone trying to go numb at after the ***, so be aware of that.</p>
<p>I have also been educated (thanks to AintCerys, I appreciate that), Niki, Ranboo, Wilbur and Tommy are not suffering from PTSD, but from ASD. PTSD will stay a tag, since other characters will suffer from it.</p>
<p>But other then that, buckle up, back seat people you're in charge of distributing snacks, make sure the people who get car sick are sitting next to a window, share the blankets, because we are off to the races babyyy!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The room was quiet. Almost deathly quiet, the way that a cemetery can seem so loud, and yet not at the same time. But it seemed a little unfair to compare the hospital waiting room to a cemetery, especially when there was a child playing with some toys not too far away.</p>
<p>But Phil did not care. He did not care about anything anymore. A lump of coldness had settled under his ribs, and he was going to keep it there for as long as he wanted it to be. No one in this room mattered, except for the two boys tucked under his arms, wrapped in his wings with the protectiveness of a parent who as lost too much.</p>
<p>He had lost too much. The avian could be selfish enough to recognize that.</p>
<p>He had lost the quiet evenings with his family, making jokes with each other while playfully throwing pillows and popcorn. He had lost the ability to look his children in the eyes, a mix of pure shame and embarrassment burning in him, while not wanting to see the blood drop down their faces as well. He had lost more feathers, and if it was a question if he could fly before, he knew he could not now. He had lost the trust in other people, glaring and almost snapping his jaw at every person who walked by, snuggling his nestlings closer together every time someone got a little too close.</p>
<p>He had lost all confidence that he had ever been a good father to his children, resorting to the fact that, at the very least, he could keep them safe.</p>
<p>But that was a lie.</p>
<p>A blatant lie.</p>
<p>Phil could not keep them safe, that was painfully obvious. He had been arrested when he had tried, only a miracle that Hypixel had decided to drop the charges, and he would not be forced to spend time in prison.</p>
<p>The new scars that Techno was going to wear would be a constant and painful reminder that he could not keep them safe. All of the times he had promised his little nestlings, when they were sick, or scared, or injured, that he would always be there for them, that was a lie. A reminder that he was a bad father.</p>
<p>And he deserved it.</p>
<p>Phil hated the self-pity that pooled in his stomach at the thoughts. Feeling sorry for yourself was a coward's way out, and he did not need to be a coward on top of a horrible father.</p>
<p>So he repeated the words over and over in his head, face stoic, and clenching his jaw.</p>
<p>
  <i>You're a bad father. You're a bad father. You're a bad father.</i>
</p>
<p>He wanted to take all of the blame for this. Because that meant that he could have done something different, changed something about himself, and that would mean he could prevent these things from happening in the future.</p>
<p>But that was unfair. That was unfair to Techno, for him to just take all of the blame. Whoever had decided that it was a good idea to put a recently recovering person up against a zoglin on their first day back, that was the person to blame.</p>
<p>So that was the other thing that Phil did to keep his mind occupied as the hours slowly dragged by at a mind-numbing pace: he repeated his mantra, and he indulged in making a plan on what he was going to do to the person who did this to his fucking child.</p>
<p>A small, sadistic smile would occasionally stretch across his face when he thought of something particularly violent before quickly returning to his neutral expression.</p>
<p>Occasionally, he would catch Eret's eye, turning his head fast to break the contact. He could not look at the otherworldly being. A part because he was ashamed of the thoughts that he was having. A in part because he did not want Eret to know what he was thinking.</p>
<p>He largely considered the man his first son, a close friend at the very least. And he did not want to see the disappointment in the younger's face when he figured out what Phil was planning.</p>
<p>But every blood, violent thing that his mind came up with sounded so very good. It had been decades since he had just caused distracted for the sake of it, and now he was starting to realize that he missed it. Lines that he had drawn for himself years ago were crossed until they were nothing more than a memory, picturing how he would go after their families, like they did to him, and he would make them all pay. He would make them pay, and then he would horde his family back to his server and never let them around other people ever again. They would be safe. He would make sure that they were safe.</p>
<p>They would be happy again. They could play games and bake, and Phil would teach them how to fight, and they would be safe, and Phil could keep them safe, and no one would hurt them again.</p>
<p>It was a perfect plan if he ignored all morals.</p>
<p>Wilbur groaned a little while Phil gently shushed him, running his hands through the nestling's curly hair. He had his face burying into the crook of his father's neck while Tommy's head laid on his lap. Phil carded his fingers through both of their's hair, gently working out the tangles and knots, wings wrapped tightly around all of them, effectively cutting them off from the rest of the world.</p>
<p>Not even Eret, Niki, Ranboo, or Fundy were allowed in his little circle of protectiveness. Of course, he would love to drag them in, putting them also under his vow of protection, but Phil also understood the boundary and did not want to cross it.</p>
<p>Besides, the siblings were trying to pull themselves back together, stitching what was lost to make something at least resembling a whole. If he was being honest with himself, Phil was a little jealous.</p>
<p>They were able to wipe the tears from each other eyes and tell them that it was not their fault before falling asleep wrapped in hugs. They had all of the members to start putting things back together.</p>
<p>While Phil's own family still waiting to be able to visit Techno. He had gotten out of surgery hours ago, but the doctors wanted to make sure that he was stable before letting anyone visit.</p>
<p>There had not been a lot of complications with the surgery, but the surgery itself was complicated. Not only from the damage that the zoglin had caused, but someone had thought it was a good idea to force-feeding his son a regen pot after the respawn star activated.  It had ripped and torn at his already mangled wounds, stretching the abused skin too far, mindlessly trying to do the job it had been set out to do.</p>
<p>That alone made his blood fucking boil with rage.</p>
<p>Regen pots only worked on the basis that the injuries were not long-term. That they had just freshly had been gotten, and there was nothing else wrong with the person’s body. Techno’s body already had wounds that he was still recovering from. Even if the skin was repaired, and the flesh had filled in the gaps, there was an exhaustion that came with recovery, where the body was tired from having to pull itself back together. It was no wonder that the regen pot had done more damage than good because it was not being used right.</p>
<p>The idiocy honestly shocked him. Did Hypixel really think that regen pots were a fix to every problem that their warriors had? That it was going to fix old damage that had not had time to heal yet? Or did they just not care that much about Techno?</p>
<p>The soft pulling of the glass door of the waiting room shocked Phil out of his head, immediately pulling his nestlings closer and wrapping his wings tighter.</p>
<p>The entire room was made out of glass, with an overly modern chair with mute colors, frames pictures of flowers on every wall. It was bland, but it served its purpose.</p>
<p>A man stood in the entranceway, a white lab coat adorning his form. There was a ski mask covering his entire face, a combination of red, orange, white, and black swirling around in the fabric. A clipboard in one hand, scanning around the room.</p>
<p>"Mr. Minecraft....?"</p>
<p>Phil almost immediately jumped to his feet before remembering that his sons were laying on him. Gently shaking their shoulders, he started to feel anxiety ripe into the flesh of his throat. What if something had gone wrong? What if this was them letting them know that they had twenty-four hours with Techno before he was gone forever? What if he was already gone?</p>
<p>Phil tried to swallow the claws that tore into him, following Eret's family close behind.</p>
<p>"First of all, hi, my name is Dr. Ponk, and I was the head surgeon on your son's operation, " his voice was chipper, and it was clear that he was smiling under his mask, fiddling a bit with the edges of the clipboard. "Techno is stable and is going to make a full recovery."</p>
<p>The words almost did not feel real. Phil had been setting himself up for tragedy, to hear that his eldest had passed and that they were going to have to plan a funeral.</p>
<p>But he was ok.</p>
<p>Well, not ok, but he was alive.</p>
<p>His son was alive.</p>
<p>Phil turned, and pulled Tommy and Wilbur into a bone-crushing hug, trying to force the tears back into his eyes. His family was alive. He could keep them safe. He would keep them safe, and fuck, Technoblade was alive!</p>
<p>Wilbur clung onto him, melting into his embrace, whispering reassuring words to himself, while Tommy did....nothing.</p>
<p>He did not return the hug. He did not even really move, he just stood there.</p>
<p>Oh no.</p>
<p>"Can we visit him?" Eret said, from behind him, clear relief him his voice, while there was excited shouting from the rest of the siblings. Phil tuned them out for a second, side glancing at Tommy. His face was completely slack, not a single hint of emotion anywhere on him. Posture loss, but not in the way that was relaxed. In the way that meant he did not feel anything.</p>
<p>Phil froze at the sight. He wanted to curse himself out. How could he have been so fucking stupid?</p>
<p>Of course, Tommy was hurting. Of course. Of fucking course! And yet he had been too caught up in his self-pity that he had not seen it. He had ignored it, in hopes that everything could go back to normal soon.</p>
<p>But that was a lie. There was no more normal to go back to. There would never be normal ever again. He would never get to be normal with his family ever again.</p>
<p>Normal died the same day Techno left home in a panic.</p>
<p>How was he just realizing this now?</p>
<p>Words were being spoken, but Phil was not picking up on any of them. Wilbur had wiggled out of his grasp and had joined the others while the avian stared at his unmoving son. Tommy.</p>
<p>How could he have been this stupid?</p>
<p>"I do have to go over some logistics with Mr. Minecraft, but the rest of you are welcome to visit Techno if you want. He is currently asleep, the drugs we gave him are very strong, but he should stay asleep for now. He should be awake at the latest tomorrow.</p>
<p>"Mr. Minecraft if you would follow me, Nurse Ella can take the rest of you to Techno."</p>
<p>Phil watched Tommy walk off, following the others with his head down. His heart ached after his son, almost pulling him back into an embrace, just to let him know that it was ok to feel.</p>
<p>But he didn't.</p>
<p>And he watched the boy follow the crowd, unfeeling.</p>
<p>"Mr. Minecraft?" Dr. Ponk's voice cut through the fog. He shook his head out of his thoughts, turning to face the ski-masked man. If it was off, Phil was sure the man would be furrowing his brow. "Are you alright?"</p>
<p>"Yeah, yeah mate." He dragged a hand down his face. This was getting too exhausting.</p>
<p>"Well, if you would follow me to my office, there are a few things that we need to discuss. But then you can go see your son!"</p>
<p>Phil gave a tight smile. That was all he had the energy for at the moment. He did not remember the last time he ate, or slept, or did anything to take care of himself. But there was still so much to do. As much as his skin felt dirty and greasy, a weight of despair started to drag down on him. It was no longer just Techno. Wilbur's manic energy was the start of something bad, and Tommy was on the verge of going numb if he was not already there.</p>
<p>And he had to fix it all. He had to. What kind of father would he be if he did not?</p>
<p>The two walked down overly white hallways, Dr. Ponk still fidgeting with his clipboard, obviously not knowing how to interact with the avian. Phil kept his eyes on the ground.</p>
<p>His mind started to make plans. Plans on how he was going to fix everything. Fix Techno, fix Wilbur, fix Tommy. Give them a life that they deserved. Be the father that they needed.</p>
<p>As long as he did not fall apart. As long as he could keep himself from shattering into a million small pieces, he would be ok. He could keep himself ok and fix everyone else around him.</p>
<p>Yes.</p>
<p>This was a good plan.</p>
<p>Dr. Ponk opened a door into a small office with too many chairs. All of the walls were covered with bookshelves, and little figurines, a pushed aside couch off to the side. There were framed pictures all over, on Ponk, but he was with other people. A man, tall, and muscles with pointed ears and green spots all over his skin, kissing the side of Ponk's face, with a gaggle of kids in between them.</p>
<p>Phil smiled.</p>
<p>"Your family?" he pointed to the picture.</p>
<p>"Yeah," his voice was dripping with love, just looking at the photo made the doctor melt.</p>
<p>There was a soft moment between the two fathers. A sort of understanding that they would do anything for their kids, and just wanted what was best for them.</p>
<p>They were the same.</p>
<p>Except one had three traumatized kids, and a piglin son who was being abused by his workplace, and the other....well, Ponk's family had their issues.</p>
<p>Ponk cleared his throat, before edging around the desk, sitting down and gesturing for Phil to follow.</p>
<p>"As you may have heard, it was a very difficult surgery to perform. And while he is goign to make a full recovery, it is going to be a very long process.</p>
<p>“The stab wound was large and was very close to where his spine was the only reason it did not get far was because it got caught on his ribs.</p>
<p>“His diaphragm was severely damaged, but the surgery was successful to repair it. In the recovery process, it is going to be very important to make sure he does not do anything strenuous. His breathing is going to be short, and physical activity is going to be hard."</p>
<p>“His abdominal muscles were also damaged, along with his stomach. Both have been placed back together, but they were going to be very tender for a very long time. It is important, when he does return home for recovery, that he does not eat anything solid or harsh.</p>
<p>“There were multiple fractures all over his body, but only a few bottom ribs were broken."</p>
<p>Ponk shifted a bit, catching Phil's eyes and not letting him go. His elbows were placed on the table, leaning forward ever so slightly.</p>
<p>This was not a good start.</p>
<p> “And while we are very glad that your son was pulled through, there are still major problems that we discovered during the surgery.</p>
<p>“Mr. Minecraft, does your son do drugs?”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>Tommy was not sure if he would feel anything ever again. Seeing Technoblade beaten within an inch of his life and then teleported out of there, Tommy had been numb to the point of not being there. Present.<p>That was a weird word.</p>
<p>He could replay the event as many times as he wanted in his head, look at the face of his brother as much as he wanted, because it didn’t hurt. Tommy was determined to make sure that it did not hurt. To make sure that he would get rid of every bit of emotion that he had. He did not want to feel anymore. That was better. That would make everything better. If he just did not tear up every time he saw the mutilated body of his brother in his mind, then he would be alright. He could be the happy-go-lucky teen that he was, and everything would be fine.</p>
<p>Wilbur vibrated with excitement next to him looking straight ahead with a purpose as they made their way to Techno’s room. Eret, Fundy, Niki, and Ranboo followed close behind. Niki had an arm around Ranboo, occasionally whispering a word or two into his ear.</p>
<p>Eret’s eyes did not leave the brothers.</p>
<p>This felt nice. This felt good.</p>
<p>Being numb.</p>
<p>His mind felt clear. Clearer than it had been a very long time. This was great. He was fine. It had taken care of everything. No more messy, messy emotions. No more feeling bad.<br/>
The image of his brother, beaten and bloody felt like just another picture. Nothing special.</p>
<p>This was perfect.</p>
<p>Tommy could feel the pep starting to come back into his step, turning the corners of the hospital that no longer felt like a prison but just another place. It was just another building to him. People were just people; none of them meant anything to him. Not Phil. Not Wilbur. Not….</p>
<p>
  <i>Say it.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Say it.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Think it. Do it. You’re not going to be able to be numb if you don’t say it. You need to say it. It’s the only way that you can stay safe. This is how you are going to be safe. That’s what you need. You need to never hurt again, and this is the way that that is going to happen. You need to be numb.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Say. It.</i>
</p>
<p>Not Techno.</p>
<p>Techno meant nothing to him.</p>
<p>He was numb.</p>
<p>The numb felt dirty.</p>
<p>The pep went down a little.</p>
<p>They arrived in front of the door. It was closed. The numbers were 304.</p>
<p>Wilbur opened the door without hesitation, taking giddy steps in while Tommy followed. The room was white. There was a soft beeping of a machine and quiet flashing lights. The white curtains were drawn over the one window in the room, nulled light flowing in.</p>
<p>There he was.</p>
<p>Technoblade.</p>
<p>He was unconscious. There was a tube stuck down his throat, forcing him to breathe every once in a while, with an IV stuck into his veins.</p>
<p>The normal old wounds. The chewed ear. The bits of scars that never had fur grow over them again. But this was different.</p>
<p>Techno was unconscious. Not asleep. This was his body forcing him to be out of reality.</p>
<p>Tommy thought he knew how he was going to react when he saw his brother. He knew Techno was going to look bad. And even with the piglin all patched up and the blood cleaned off, it was worse than seeing him in the pit.</p>
<p>Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Wilbur’s manic smile drop as soon as he set eyes on Techno. Before he turned heel and walked out the door.</p>
<p>And Tommy was left. Staring.</p>
<p>His walls were crumbling. No, he wanted to be numb. He wanted to not feel a thing when he looked at Techno’s face.</p>
<p>Technoblade meant nothing to him.</p>
<p>
  <i>Technoblade meant nothing to him.</i>
</p>
<p>“Tommy?”</p>
<p>He jumped at the sound of Eret’s voice, looking up at the tall man next to him. He felt small. So fucking small, and there was nothing he could do about it. His walls were crumbling faster than he could put them back up. Tommy shrank away from the voice, holding his hands close to his chest. He could feel his lower jaw twitching.</p>
<p>“Tommy. It’s ok to feel things.”</p>
<p>There were no tears. That almost made it worse, as a crushing weight was placed onto his chest, and he crumbled. His facade crumbled, falling into Eret’s open arms. He could not breathe he was so choked.</p>
<p>The thin hospital shirt that Techno wore. The way that his eyes were sunk in with exhaustion. The bandages were barely visible through the scratchy blankets. His fur was a mess, and this was so fucking wrong.</p>
<p>Tommy could not cry. The tears did not appear in his eyes as he buried his face into Eret’s chest, breathing in the comforting smell of lavender. A hand-rubbed his back while his mind tried to grapple with what was going on. His eyes started to stare off into space, only the labored breathing of Techno cutting through the heavy silence of the room.</p>
<p>Tommy wanted to be numb.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*looks at Ponk* what the fuck are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here???? Well, ok, if that's the way it's going to be, I guess. Here take Sam at least.</p>
<p>Characters are just showing up at this point, but hey, the more the merrier.</p>
<p>...</p>
<p>'merrier', I hardly know her.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Here...? No, here? Where do you belong?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>In this chapter, I will profess my undying love for the personification of emotions.</p><p>Also! Fanart!! I was never expecting to get fanart, but here it is! Drawn my Soep, and they did an amazing job!</p><p>https://soepwashere.tumblr.com/post/647725211873083392/fanart-for-an-amazing-series-on-ao3-called-the</p><p>I really appreciate it!! Thank you so much!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“What?” had he had just heard? No, no that couldn't be right. Did he just ask him if Technoblade, his son, did drugs? “No! No, he doesn’t do drugs. What kind of questions is that mate? Of course, he does not do drugs, what….why would you ask that?”</p><p>“Well, when we were operating on him, there was….residual effects of a potion. Strength potion to be specific.</p><p>“When someone takes a potion, there are….like….stiches? All around their body, that kind of enhanced it. And they are visible. You can see them, nestled admits muscles, making them stronger, and stitching together some of the wounds to not make them as prominent.</p><p>“And they’ll leave a residue after they have been used. When we were operating on your son, we found not only the stitches but lots and lots of residue all over his muscles and some old wounds as well.</p><p>“It was getting to a dangerously high amount. When a potion does not have time to fully work its way out of someone’s system, it can start to harm their body overall. Making it harder to move and heightening their tolerance to potions. And, if someone takes enough of them, they can overdose.”</p><p>Ponk took a breath.</p><p>“Techno was starting to edge on that threshold. One or two more potions, and he could have put himself into an overdose very easily.”</p><p>What the fuck was he hearing? This couldn't be true. No, this was just not true. Techno would not do that, he was smarter than that. Phil had taught him the consequences of potions. He had taught all of his sons the consequences of potions. They were all smarter than that, to let something like that get that bad.</p><p>A bad thought crept into Phil’s mind, and he felt his chest collapse under the weight of it.</p><p>“If you had to guess, “ he croaked, clenching his fists to keep his hands from shaking. “How long has this been going on?”</p><p>“Well…..based on the residue, it has not been too long. But it has been very intense. So, if I were to guess….no more than a week or two.”</p><p>Fuck.</p><p>
  <i>Fuck fuck, fuck fuck, fuck!</i>
</p><p>A hole consumed the place where his heart used to be, swallowing up every emotion that he could feel, and dumping it all in his mind. A swirl of emotions, and thoughts, spinning around in his mind like a whirlpool, sucking every bit of energy that he had down, down down, to the deep, dark ocean below.</p><p>He was drowning. The water was leaking into his lungs, wrapping its watery hands around his throat, and squeezing. He writhed, kicking, and thrashed to try to get some sort of hold on the area around him. Figure out which way was up, and start moving there so he could have some chance of surviving. It was cold and dark, and Phil was so very alone. Tears blended in with the ocean water around him, as he tried to fight to stay alive.</p><p>Someone grabbed onto him.</p><p>They had appeared out of nowhere, the beautiful monster of self-destruction, but she wrapped her arms around him nonetheless. Pressing her body close to his, forcing him to stop kicking. An arm around his waist, resting on his lower back, while another cupped gently under his chin, lifting it with webbed fingers, guiding his face to her's.</p><p>Pressing her lips onto his, pulling him in tight, bitting the very edges of his mouth as they kissed.</p><p>He froze. Unable to pull away because of how tightly she held him, but also of how strong she was. She was pulling the air right out of his lungs.</p><p>Phi’s mouth tingled with poison when she pulled away, the lack of air starting to make his mind grow fuzzy, but he could still make out the beautiful, finned women in front of him. Hair a light, aqua green and flowing in the water, with dark eyes piercing into his soul. She still held him in her webbed arms, stroking his waterlogged feathers with her hands. Her mouth rested next to his ear, a hissing gorgeous voice of a woman echoed through his mind:</p><p>
  <i>You need to fix this. You can’t fall apart just yet. He was hurting under your care, and you did nothing to help. You did not even notice that anything was wrong. If you had just checked your potion stash just once, you would have noticed that something was wrong, and you didn’t. You let him suffer without any help. What kind of father are you? To let your sons suffer alone when you could have helped them?</i>
</p><p>
  <i>You need to fix this. You need to fix them. If you shatter now, you’ll be as good as dead to them.</i>
</p><p>She pulled back from where she had been whispering, nuzzling her face into the side of his neck.</p><p>Needled pain shocked through him, biting into the soft flesh, as she pierced the skin with her sharp teeth. Phil squirmed in her grasp, trying to pull away, trying to break out of her embrace.</p><p>She thrashed her head, ripping the flesh a bit, growling a warning. His blood started to leak out, creating a curtain around them, shielding them from the rest of the world. From anyone who could help.</p><p>Phil went limp in her embrace, sinking into her words and bite, accepting his place. Falling into her touch, and warmth. It was better than being alone. It was so much better than being alone. And she would tell him what to do. What to think.</p><p>Fix. He was going to fix this.</p><p>The light of a surface started to get a little less bright.</p><p>Phil returned to his body and the real world with a fuzzy, tired mind, lifting his gaze to where Ponk was.</p><p>He ignored the look in the doctor's eyes.</p><p>“Is that everything?” His voice was scratchy and hoarse. Like he had been screaming for days on end. In a way, that was correct.</p><p>“Um...well yes? There are a few recovery processes that I would like to go over, but I’m sure that you want to be there when your son wakes up, so we can go over those a different times. I can escort you if you want?”</p><p>“No, it’s alright,” Phil pulled himself up, ignoring the feather that had seemingly appeared in his hand, and shoved them into his pocket. His legs shook under him, but he forced himself forward. There was a lot to do. There was a lot to fix. And there was no time to feel sorry for himself.</p><p>There was a faint, “oh….ok!” from the doctor as Phil exited the office as started to make his way to the third floor.</p><p>His eyes stayed on the floor, watching the alternating white and gray tiled pass under his feet. He did not want to be here anymore. Phil did not want to be anywhere anymore. The only reason he was, was for his sons.</p><p>And one of his sons was addicted to strength potions. Had been taking Phil’s private reserve right under his nose, and he had never noticed. He had let the issue go and now Techno was on the verge of an overdose. An almost corpse in a hospital. And he had done nothing.</p><p>Feeling returned to his chest, in an aching, almost unbearable sadness that wracked him to his very core. Disappointment in himself.</p><p>Phil grabbed the fabric where his heart was, putting a hand on a nearby wall to try to steady himself. His vision swam, shaking under his weight. Overwhelmed by everything that was happening. He did not have time to be overwhelmed. He did not have time to think about the headache that was starting to pound against his skull. His breathing started to pick up, and Phil wanted to crumble right there. Cry. Cry his heart out, and scream at the universe for giving his family such a shitty hand.</p><p>Tears did not well in his eyes. That was almost worse. The emotions stuck like gum to his rib cage.</p><p>It took everything for him to stand up straight again, and taking another step, hyper-focused on the sound his wooden sandals made against the tiles. Nausea churned in his throat that he forced down.</p><p>There was no time. Even with the slight blur to his vision, it didn’t matter. There was still no time. Tommy was starting to retreat in on himself and show no emotions, and Phil had not missed Wilbur’s manic smiles that had been permanently on his face the entire night. They were falling apart. And Techno was going to be a shell of who he was when he woke up, traumatized, and taken advantage of by whoever had forced him into that fight.</p><p>They needed a father. And all they had was Philza.</p><p>And Phil knew that he was not enough. He knew that. But he would do his best. And that meant not falling apart. That meant staying together. For them.</p><p>He could do that.</p><p>The woman pulled him deeper into the cold dark ocean, which was starting to feel a little warmer now. She had let go of his neck and let the blood flow freely from it, occasionally running her rough, barbed tongue across it to lap up the blood. Biting the cartilage of his slightly pointed ears, she spoke again.</p><p>
  <i>Good. Very good. You’re doing so well. I am so proud of you. They will be so proud of you too. Just keep going. I am so, very proud of everything that you are doing. This is good. This is the right thing to do.</i>
</p><p>Yeah. She was right. This was the right thing to do. He was doing well. If he just kept…</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>Wilbur slammed the door behind him, taking in the hot air of the afternoon. It made him angrier. He turned to the closest wall and slammed his fist into it. Pain rippled through his hand, the ripped skin digging into the stone of the wall.<p>He laughed.</p><p>It shook his shoulders with a manic, loud laugh, echoing in the air.</p><p>He slammed the other fist into the wall. His knuckles split on that hand too. Pausing for a moment, Wilbur basked in the pain, letting it snake through the very top layer of his skin and inflame the nerves.</p><p>The other fist. Another. Another. Another.</p><p>Bloodstained the wall, splattering against his wrist, smearing across the stone while the laugh kept a constant hoarse tone in his throat, vibrating in his chest as he went.</p><p>This felt good. This felt better than the painful ache that was crumbling him from the inside out. The guilt that was taking him apart, piece by piece until there was nothing left of him. The indescribable pain that he had felt when Techno had disappeared into a swirl of purple.</p><p>He had run. Ran after his brother, mute to words, even the screams of agony getting stuck in his mouth.</p><p>He had been the one that heard Techno scream in torment and pushed his body to go faster, shoving people out of his way. He had seen Techno wraith in pain on a stretcher, clawing at his stomach like he was trying to get something out of him. Like his own body had revolted against him.</p><p>He had seen the piglin yell and beg, and cry, pulling away from each touch that even got close to him. He had seen his brother getting rolled away, four paramedics having to force him to stay still to try to get an IV in him. He had seen them force him to lay flat, grabbing his wrists and ankles, and stretched him out, before placing the limbs in cuffs to make sure that he did not go anywhere. How Techno had shrieked at this, pulled, and twisting in the cuffs, begging to be let go, trying to pull his limbs in tight to his body.</p><p>Wilbur had watched his brother lose control over his body. Both in the way that it clawed at him from the inside out, and the way that the parametric took control out of his hands, and forced him to do what they wanted.</p><p><i>It is for his own good,</i> a part of his mind told him, as he watched them put a muzzle around Techno’s snout.</p><p><i>He’s going to hurt himself or others, this is to help him,</i> his brain said as he watched as the piglin’s limbs started to twitch out of his control, trying to make himself as small as possible, his voice starting to fade with how much he was screaming and pleading.</p><p>And another part of Wilbur broke.</p><p>His legs crumpled under him, and he watched his brother get taken away while he laughed, and laughed, and pounded the ground under him. Furious tears streaming down his face while the memories became real in his mind.</p><p>Time deconstructed itself until it no longer plagued this world. He sat there, crying and laughing for years. Feeling his organs die from lack of food and water. His brain only echoed the images of what had happened, becoming more real each time they ran across his head.</p><p>Tortured for years by his head while the people around him stopped and stared. They did not age with the years that passed for Wilbur. They stayed youthful and agile, able to walk around his decaying corpse. A ghost took his place in the world. Blue and cold, melting when the rain poured down from the skies while his tears burned his skin.</p><p>There was no need to be sad because he could no longer remember. He remembered a home that no longer existed. A home that had been destroyed, but he did not know-how.</p><p>His feet took him to a server, where a home stood on top of a hill. The spark of life has gone from it, just a building with four walls made out of wood. It was no longer a home.</p><p>The ghost pushed the door open and peeked inside. The dust had collected on all surfaces. A faint memory of an echo of laughter, and joy. Of a father and his three sons, alive and loving each other with all of their hearts.</p><p>What had happened to them?</p><p>There was a noise. The soft padding of feet against the wood. A figure descended the stairs, wings pressed against his sides, with a floating boy following close behind him.</p><p>The ghost looked at the tired, oh so tired avian before him, and looked at the blonde boy behind him, a red and white shirt on his body, with lava tears covering his face. And further behind him was a piglin, transparent as the other was. As the ghost himself was, looking down at his slightly gray-tingled hands.</p><p>The avian crumbled to the ground, grabbing his hair, and screamed into the ground. While the ghost stood. He did not understand. He did not remember. His body was still on the ground of the temporary infirmary at the Hypixel Stadium.</p><p>No, he was still on the ground back there. Was he? A voice was talking to him. What were they saying? Was this real?</p><p>He looked at the faces of the other two ghosts, watching their faces melt into the background until the face of one man came into focus. Holding him tight by his shoulders, shaking him ever so slightly. A smiling mask, framed by a head of brown hair, and a green hoodie, straps crossing his chest, with fingerless gloves grabbing onto his skin.</p><p>"It's ok! You're ok, just come back to me,” the man said, the noise finally catching up with the way that his mouth moved. “Come out of it. Come on! You’re not that far gone yet. Come on!”</p><p>Wilbur stared at him blankly, still trying to nestle back into reality. This was real. As much as he hated it, this was real.</p><p>He gave a weak nod. Grabbing onto one of the hands that held him and squeezed it. He did not want to fall again.</p><p>The man had struggled to get him to his feet after that, basically carrying his entire weight. Time was chopped, but the next moment he was being transferred into Eret’s arms, while the masked man talked. He had collapsed into a chair after that and stayed there until Tommy had walked in.</p><p>A dangerous possessiveness had overtaken him, and he had yanked his younger brother over to his corner and did not let him go. He was never going to let him go.</p><p>But the mania stayed.</p><p>And now he was here. Laughing, while mutilating his knuckles, relishing in the pain. There was a rhythm that he liked, making it almost like a song. Sometimes switching up the notes, adding a silent beat, or a triplet. He was going for the fourth beat when the pain never came.</p><p>A hand had caught his fist. Wrapping around his wrist, and pulled it away from the wall.</p><p>A yelled in frustration, and pulled his other fist back, trying to drive it into the wall.</p><p>It was caught too.</p><p>Wilbur snapped his eyes to the person holding onto his fists, nostrils flaring with irritation and pure anger.</p><p>“Wilbur stop!”</p><p>Niki.</p><p>She looked angry. Angry and concerned, and furious, and sorrowful, and Wilbur had no idea which emotion was directed at what person.</p><p>But she held his bloody, and mangled fists close to her chest, refusing to let them go, while they stared at each other. </p><p>An entire conversation was had, just by looking into each other's eyes. She knew he was hurting, she was too, but this was not the way to fix things. He knew that she was trying to hold herself together. He offered to let her join him in the fake memories where he did not remember anything. She refused. That was not the way to do things. It was a temporary fix. The pain would still be there when they returned, and after that, they would have to clean up the blood of their actions.</p><p>He knew she was right.</p><p>Niki pulled him into a hug, standing up a little taller on her feet to wrap her arms around his shoulders, pulling him down a little.</p><p>He returned the embrace.</p><p>Resting his chin on her shoulder, while looking at the ground beyond her.</p><p>Emotions were rolling around in him, but they were hard to pinpoint. He had seen Techno label his emotions with Phil, claiming that it helped figure out what to do next when he was confused.</p><p>Anger, at the world, and whoever the fuck hurt his brother.</p><p>Anger, at his brother for not asking for help when he needed to and left before he was ready.</p><p>Anger, at himself for not recognizing Techno was hurting sooner and did not help sooner.</p><p>Anger, at Niki for making him stop.</p><p>Anger, at himself for starting in the first place.</p><p>He guessed that there were not as many emotions as he originally thought. Maybe there was just one. One that demanded people get treated better, then he is treated better and treat others better in return.</p><p>Anger.</p><p>Wilbur was angry.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Fun Fact of the Day: Techno was, originally, supposed to fight a ghast, but that did not seem dramatic enough, and I was looking for something else. And while I was playing Minecraft, was absolutely yeeted by a hoglin, and was helpfully reminded that they exited.<br/>And the rest is history.</p><p>Also, "Mr. Minecraft, does your son do drugs?" is now my brand. When you think of Hatwall, just think of that line.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Empty....Empty....Fuck you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I think square cups are the superior kind of cup. The fact that it has corners gives it so much power. Same thing with square plates.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tommy was sitting on the other side of the room. Huddled in a chair, staring at the unconscious body of Techno. Pulling out of Eret’s hug a little too soon, even though he burned to be comforted, and claimed a chair in a corner, not letting anyone near him. Both Fundy and Eret had left to get food, leaving him completely alone. The elder of the two had pressed a small spoon into his hands, one that he now twisted around in his hands.</p>
<p>He could not keep his eyes off of Techno. Trying to control the way that his face twitched with emotion, shoving them down every once in a while, counting the seconds that it took for them to come back. The time in between got a little longer each time. He could be grateful for that, at least.</p>
<p>The spoon fits perfectly in his palm, and he rubbed the dip off it with his thumb in a constant rhythm, feeling the metallic feeling on his hands.</p>
<p>Why was he so still? At times, Tommy was not even sure that he was breathing; he doubted it was easy to breathe with a tube stuck down his throat. But there was a slow, steady rise and fall of his chest, to that put the very few worries of his to rest.</p>
<p>The rest of the time, he tried to spend not thinking. And when his mind was too full to do that, he tried to think only logically, reasoning on why this was all happening. Piece together every bit of the puzzle that they had, and force it to make sense. And when he felt too stupid to do that, he tried to school his emotions again, shoving them deeper into his chest until there was just a numb feeling that burned in the back of his eyes.</p>
<p>His face sat at a comfortable neutral expression. Rubbing the handle of the spoon, the metal heated up from his skin, his knee bouncing with access energy.</p>
<p>There was a certain disconnect that he felt from the world at the moment. The edges of his vision were a little blurry, and his head felt a little too empty, despite not being able to shut up the thoughts. It was not the worst experience. In a way, it was kind of nice. He could act like all of this happened for a reason. And that he was smart enough to figure out what that reason was. That the world was just a jumble of cruel coincidences and pain. That bad things happened for a reason.</p>
<p>He could believe that with all of his heart.</p>
<p>And he could stop his mind from running at a million miles per hour. Left alone with his thoughts that traveled everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Remembering the way that Techno had pulled him in close, the way that he felt safe in his brother’s arms, even if the piglin had been hurt. A memory from when they were children, he and Wilbur had been walking through some tall grass, when a snake had appeared. The taste of Phil’s chicken noodle soup that only he could make right, was always the go-to when one of them got sick. The way that Techno’s entire body had sunk when the zoglin had stabbed him through the chest. An adventure that he and Tubbo had, where they had found a little creek not far from where both of them went to school, splashing around in the mud until it was almost dark.</p>
<p>That memory made Tommy stop.</p>
<p>He had completely forgotten about Tubbo, the last week had been hectic. Hell, he had forgotten about school, dreading the thought of how much makeup work he would have.</p>
<p>Fishing out his communicator, he opened up messages. Sure enough, next to Tubbo’s name were a hundred and eight-four unread messages. Damn, he was clingy.</p>
<p>Lazily scrolling through them, moving the spoon to the other hand, they were mostly just spam, although every once in a while, there would be an actual coherent question that showed that the ram was worried about his best friend. Tommy missed him. Missed him more at this moment than he had in a while.</p>
<p>Just a night, away from all of this. From Phil, from Wilbur, from Techno. Just to be with his best friend again, and go do something mildly illegal or stupid, or both. To not have to worry about his unconscious brother, or what the recovery process was going to look like, or the slimy protectiveness that radiated off of Wilbur, or the suffocating kind that Phil was starting to take on. Just a night with his best friend.</p>
<p>And maybe that could go over to Tubbo’s house after, and try to quietly sneak into his house, and past his dad. But the older ram would be awake, because he never seemed to sleep, never asking about their adventures, but always seemed to know that they were up to no good. He would offer them some kind of drink, and midnight snack, suggesting that they all could watch a scary movie.</p>
<p>And they would watch a movie until the sun came up, and it would be perfect. The teens on the couch, while the older ram claimed a well-loved chair.</p>
<p>No injuries. No life and death situations. Just the loud snoring of Tubbo’s dad, and a perfect evening.</p>
<p>“Tommy?”</p>
<p>Phil’s voice made him jump out of his seat a little, wiping the small smile that had, somehow, appeared on his face. The avian stood in the entrance of the hospital room, eyes locked on Tommy, a hand on the wall, almost like he was holding himself up. He had not rounded the corner yet, so there was no way that he could see Techno from where he was standing.</p>
<p>Tommy’s own eyes flicked between Phil and the unconscious piglin, while the avian’s eyes shifted between him, and Ranboo.</p>
<p>Oh yeah. Rambo was still here. Of course. Because Eret would have never left him alone with just a spoon in the same room with his bloodied, unconscious brother. That was ridiculous.</p>
<p>“Hey Tom…” his words were immediately cut off when he turned the corner and was able to see his eldest son.</p>
<p>The look of his heartbreaking just under the surface of the skin, and a calloused chipped rib cage, made Tommy wish for a life that was not his again.</p>
<p>Phil did not move. His jaw went slack, and the ice-blue eyes dulled a little. It was getting easier to point out the bald spots on his wings. Even now, it seemed like his hand twitched to grab onto something and pull, but he was keeping himself from it, for the sake of his son.</p>
<p>A part of Tommy wanted him to do it. To show how broken he was. To stop pretending that he was fine because none of them were. He was not, and Wilbur sure as hell as not. So why was Phil staring at his son, frozen, before filling his lungs, letting out the air, and turning his attention back to his blonde son, with a smile on his face?</p>
<p>Tommy clenched his jaw at that, biting back the anger that flared up his chest as soon as he saw that smile.</p>
<p>“Tommy,” Phil crossed the room to his son, kneeling in front of the boy, and gathering him up into his arms, tucking his head under his chin, feeling the slight chin-scruff that the avian had pressed against his skull. The rage started to build. “Are you alright?”</p>
<p>He pulled himself out of the embrace, roughly removing the man’s arms from around him, and standing up. The hurt look in Phil’s eyes was a lot easier to ignore when the anger started to replace the emotionless void that he tried to force on himself. In a way, the anger felt more numbing. It was not the anger that made a statement or told him that he deserved more. It was just rage. Pure rage at his father, and he needed to be out of his sight.</p>
<p>With a harshly mumbled “fine,” Tommy turned on his heels and stomped out of the room, into the halls of the hospital. There was no scramble to come after him, no footsteps that mirrored his own, and he could at least be grateful for that, basking in the anger that had taken over his entire chest.</p>
<p>He needed to be away. He needed to cool down. Deep down, he knew that the anger that he felt towards his father was unfair, that the man was just trying to help, but he was also so done. It was not even two pieces of himself fighting with each other, two opposing ideas that were wrestling with each other in him. No, he was just done.</p>
<p>Emotionally exhausted, with everything that was happening, and he wanted to be alone. He wanted to run away. Escape.</p>
<p>That was what he wanted.</p>
<p>Shoving his hands into his pockets, Tommy followed the halls, keeping his eyes down, and refusing to look at anyone who passed by.</p>
<p>He was done. So fucking done.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>Phil stared at the ground in almost disbelief, from where Tommy had been, tracing the path he had walked out. His brain felt like it was short-circuiting. He did not fully understand what had just happened, or the information was not processing in his mind correctly.<p>Tommy had just walked out. He had wrenched himself out of Phil’s arms, glaring and making a beeline out of the room.</p>
<p>He did not know what to do. He had a script, all planned out in his head. It would be perfect. He would hug Tommy, and ask what was wrong, and just listen like he always did. And they would just talk. He would give advice or not say anything at all if that was what was needed.</p>
<p>And it had gone all wrong. So very wrong. Tommy had left. He had glared at him before walking out.</p>
<p>Phil could feel himself starting to spiral. Being pulled deeper into the dark place that had started to grow in his mind ever since the beginning of this whole thing. His breathing was the only thing that would echo in his ears, the pulse of blood being pumped by a heart that was on the verge of a mental breakdown.</p>
<p>“I think he just might need some time,” a voice said. It was deep, and Phil almost jumped out of his skin thinking it was Techno. The green and red eyes of Ranboo met him when he turned.</p>
<p>“Oh, um, yeah,” Phil mumbled, shifting to take Tommy’s seat, pushing his hair back from his eyes. He needed to fix something. He needed to be useful. He needed to fix someone. “How are you holding up?” The question was quick and ripped out of him like he would die if he did not ask. But he didn't care. He needed to be useful.</p>
<p>Ranboo shifted back a little like he had not been expecting the question.</p>
<p>Yes! Phil grabbed onto it with the grip of a desperate man, giving the half enderman a soft smile and a small nod, letting him know that he could continue.</p>
<p>“Well, um, well, yeah, I just, I don’t, I don’t,” he fumbled over his words, twirling his fingers over each other, no prompt to help him through the weighted question.</p>
<p>“How did you feel during the fight?”</p>
<p>“S-scared. Like I was never going to see him again. That he was going to….leave, and I would never be able to tell him how much he changed my life. That there was so much more that I wanted to do with him. I….was thinking a little bit selfishly, I guess.”</p>
<p>“There’s nothing selfish about wanting to spend more time with someone. It’s when that person does not want to spend time with you that it becomes selfish, and I can tell you that Techno loved being around you.”</p>
<p>There was a pause as Ranboo absorbed the information, trying to process what was happening.</p>
<p>“How do you know that?”</p>
<p>“Ranboo, I raised him. He’s not the most emotional person, or at least that is what it seems like at first. But he does care about you.”</p>
<p>Ranboo processed, giving a little nod. Phil returned the nod and kept going. Pressing a little deeper.</p>
<p>“How do you feel now?”</p>
<p>“Scared. Again. But worse, somehow. I know that he’s not going to die. We’re in a hospital, and the doctors think that it is safe enough for him to be around people, so he must be some kind of ok if they are letting that happen. But, what if he never wakes up? Before, if he got stabbed, then that was it. We would see him die right there he…..um, he…..”</p>
<p>Ranboo’s words were starting to fail him. He did not know how to put what he was feeling into the world in a way that would make sense. His feelings felt like they were too complex to be in the world. Phil understood the feeling.</p>
<p>“You still don’t understand how he is alive?” Phil offered, making sure to phrase it as a question so the ender hybrid could reject it if it was not right.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I think so? That he’s going to wake up. That’s not an if, that’s a when. And that does not feel real. I didn’t feel real for a while. And that did not feel good. Like at all. But I also don’t want this to be real. I don’t want any of this to be real, and….I don’t know.</p>
<p>“I’m angry. And I don’t want to be angry, but I am. I’m angry at Techno for leaving. I’m angry at whoever forced him to fight.</p>
<p>“But it doesn’t feel like real anger. It feels like….sadness? I guess. But more intense. But I don’t know a word for it. I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”</p>
<p>“It’s alright mate. Sometimes we just need to get our thoughts out there, so we can process them better. And it always helps to have someone listen.</p>
<p>“Would you say that you’re feeling more melancholy?”</p>
<p>Ranboo sighed.</p>
<p>“I guess? I just feel like nothing is going to get better. There is always going to be sometimes that is going to be wrong that does not let people, I don’t know, heal.</p>
<p>“And I don’t know if I should feel worse about everything that is happening. Because, besides not feeling like anything was real, I feel fine. And that feels….bad. I should feel worse. And I know that. I don’t know what is wrong with me. Because Tommy is not doing well, and I know that. And it just makes me feel guilty that this just does not feel real.”</p>
<p>“Mate, don’t compare what you are going through, to how other people are reacting. Even if we all went through the same thing, we are all going to react in different ways. And feeling like nothing is real are not easy emotions to deal with, you don’t have to ‘suffer more’ because of this. There is no 'suffering more'. You are reacting the way that you are, and you don’t have to feel bad about it, or want to change it. Because that’s not fair to you.</p>
<p>“It’s not a competition. There is no prize for suffering more than other people. We are all going to deal with this differently.”</p>
<p>Phil gave him a moment. Ranboo had not looked at him this entire time, keeping his eyes on his hands that he fidgeted in front of him. His eyes looked like they were brimming with tears, but he was refusing to let them fall.</p>
<p>The avian kept going.</p>
<p>“What did you mean when things did not feel real?”</p>
<p>Ranboo lifted his eyes, intensely staring at the space in front of him. It was not at Techo, but just the empty space that he had created in front of his eyes. Phil rubbed a hand down his back, making sure to ground the kid so he did not start staring too far off into space.</p>
<p>“I don’t know. I don’t know how to put it in a way that is going to make sense.”</p>
<p>“It doesn’t have to make sense Ranboo, don’t worry about that. Just talk about how it made you feel.”</p>
<p>He returned to looking down, a glassy film started to form over his eyes as he remembered the event. Phil lightly dragged his nails over the boy’s back. He needed to make sure that the ender hybrid stayed here. It could be worse if he started to disassociate. Techno had much the same problem when things got too stressful, so Phil was used to dealing with these kinds of situations, and how to keep someone grounded.</p>
<p>Selfishly, he drank in the feeling of being useful. He was helping, fixing someone. This was something he could do.</p>
<p>“I felt….warm. Not hot, but just like….warm. And everything was so fuzzy around me. And I knew that things were happening, and people were telling me to do things, but it did not feel like me. I felt like I was watching someone else control my body, but I was still inside of my body?</p>
<p>“And when I came….back? It felt wrong. Like I was not supposed to be in this body. And I could remember everything that happened, but also I couldn’t. Because it happened, but it did not happen to me. I don’t….don’t….”</p>
<p>The tears started to spill over his eyes, with a sick hissing sound as they traveled down his skin. Ranboo flinched, rubbing a palm deep into his eyes to try to get rid of the water.</p>
<p>Phil’s heart sank at the sight. The boy could not even cry to relieve stress of the situation. He had to hold it all in, even when he felt like he was going to die because of all of the emotions, there was no way for him to get rid of them.</p>
<p>That wasn’t healthy. He must be suffering.</p>
<p>“It didn’t feel good,” Ranboo whispered. And he smiled, turning to face Phil with the most broken smile he had ever seen. The one that has created a thin barrier between him, the emotions he forced down into the deepest parts of himself, and the outside world. Strained and hurt, but he was stuck like that.</p>
<p>Phil pulled the boy close, nestling him into the crevice of his chest, and tucking his head under his chin.</p>
<p>Ranboo fell into the embrace, shaking with emotions while burying his face into Phil’s coat.</p>
<p>They settled in a quiet sort of silence. Phil kept a constant rhythm of rubbing in Ranboo’s back, while the ender hybrid tried his best to not cry, but still felt the emptiness in his chest.</p>
<p>It was easy to see how tired he was. Tired of all of this. And who could blame him? Phil was tired too. But his exhaustion came from a completely different place, as he relished in the way that someone relied on him once more.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I was not happy with this chapter, and then I edited it and was like "eh, it's not too bad," and now it here.</p>
<p>Also, Dante is gone, crabrave, we did it boys!!</p>
<p>Also, also, square bowls do not have superiority. They are stepping out of their fucking lane, and need to go back into it. Square bowls need to be banned, forever.</p>
<p>I am very tired. Hope you all enjoyed the chapter.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Well This is Your Fault.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>POV: I have a consistent update schedule and this was defiantly a part of it. But today, I write for school/college/university students who are stressed about finals and tests coming up. Here is your dose of escapism. Tomorrow, who knows.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Was he dying? It felt like it. The gaping hole in his abdomen burned with red hot lava, standing in the divot of his flesh, scorched with pain. It was starting to subside. The pain was still there, but it was far away and nulled.</p>
<p>Techno was falling. A pinhole of light getting further and further away from him as he traveled down into the abyss of darkness. There was faint crying and screaming, but he was not sure where it was coming from.</p>
<p>His chest burned with the lack of air, spasming with desperation.</p>
<p>But he didn't care.</p>
<p>Maybe a different version of him would have fought, clawed against his fate, forcing the pen into his own hands and rewrite it. Stubborn, and relentless, refusing what others wanted with his monotone voice, and a vague hint of curiosity of what path things would take.</p>
<p>And now --</p>
<p>Techno looked down at his hooved hands, watching them shake in the backdrop of darkness.</p>
<p>Who was he anymore?</p>
<p>Was he dead?</p>
<p>The noise stopped traveling, and the light finally was snuffed out. He shook with tears, only now realizing that he was never going to get to say goodbye.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>Niki guided Wilbur back to the room, a hand on his back while walking tentatively behind him, rubbing his back every once with long strokes. The tall, lanky man was still hunched over himself a little, wrapping his arms around his stomach, and keeping his eyes down.<p>He had babbled nonsense for a while, holding onto her with a death grip, almost to the point where she could not breathe. But she let the man cling to her, sobbing into her shoulder until he started to pull away, rubbing the tears out of his eyes as fast as he could, even though it was not hard to see the glistening tear tracks left over.</p>
<p>Niki herself felt the way that he did. Manic, and wild, ready to burn the entirety of Hypixel to the ground for even considering to hurt someone so close to her.</p>
<p>There had been a point in her life where everything had been taken from her. Violently ripped out of her child's hands, and left her in a world that was too cruel for someone so alone. Years of getting bounced around to different foster homes, the next one somehow worse than the next, until getting out of bed were hard. Her heart had become bitter to the world that had treated her wrong, speaking over her, and disregarding her time and time again.</p>
<p>It was not until she was placed in a home with a curtain little enderman did the soft parts of her damaged heart start to melt. He was small and fragile, no more than six age. And yet his smile and laugh brought joy into her life again.</p>
<p>She spent hours coxing him to smile with stories, and silly faces, listening to his incoherent babbling like it was the most important thing that she had ever heard, watching him wave his arms around as he talked. They started to snuggle up to each other at night, tucking the enderboy close to her, making sure her back was towards where danger could come from.</p>
<p>That was the first time Niki could remember being happy.</p>
<p>It did not last. Nothing ever did.</p>
<p>Their foster parents got tired of taking care of them. The money stopped being worth the space that the two small children took up in their house. Niki had begged herself to tears the day they had told the two that they were going back. Offering to get a job to make it worth it, to give them all of the money, to do the chores, and take care of the house, please just don’t separate her from Ranboo!</p>
<p>No matter what she offered, their minds had already been made up, talking over her, until angry tears flowed faster down her face, and fury bubbled in her chest.</p>
<p>It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. Life had just started to give her a taste of happiness and now it was going to get ripped out of her hands before she had even been able to relax into it.</p>
<p>Niki was twelve when she shoved the essentials into a backpack, picked up a sleepy Ranboo, and climbed out of the window of their bedroom. The cold autumn air made her shiver involuntarily, but she was not letting this happen.</p>
<p>There was not much of a plan. What could a child plan for when they were running on adrenaline and desperation to stay alive? To care for the little boy that she called a brother.</p>
<p>She had run to the small forest that was near her foster home, frantically trying to find a place to get a few hours of sleep before the weight of what was happening settled in. There was nothing else to do so late at night. Her foster parents would look for them, and as long as she could dodge them for a while, they would be ok.</p>
<p>There was a little den that she found, hollowed out, the frozen dirt lining it, with still vibrant moss edging around the entrance of the dugout. It was just big enough for Niki to squeeze both her and Ranboo into it, taking the blanket that she had brought with them out, and wrapping them both around tight with it.</p>
<p>Shivering with cold as the cold ground sucked all of the heat out of her body, they both drifted off into a night of cold and fitful sleep.</p>
<p>Something had shaken her awake a few minutes later. The sun was hitting her right in the eyes, as her small body was wracked with sickness. Someone was crying and begging for help, while two hands cradled her close to a chest.</p>
<p>
  <i>Ranboo.</i>
</p>
<p>Her limbs were weighted and cold, but that did not stop her from starting to struggle, to get out of the arms and get to her brother. Slurred curing and wriggling, but all it did was make the person hold her tighter.</p>
<p>“It’s ok,” an unfamiliar, deep voice had said, “you’re ok. You’re safe. Just rest.”</p>
<p>Unconsciousness took Niki fighting, not trusting the voice, but the sickness that had nestled itself in her chest overnight was too strong for her small body to fight.</p>
<p>She would wake up hours later, in a soft bed, wrapped up in plush blankets, with a cold rag across her forehead. A small bundle would be pressed against her side, in soft, new clothes, sleeping soundly. Ranboo looked clean, and peaceful, through her blurry vision, still riddled with sickness.</p>
<p>After that, it did not take long for both of them to get adopted into the family that Eret had started to construct, Fundy already being under their care when he had found the two. They were washed, fed, and taken care of, given everything that they needed and more. Reassured that they would always have a place to stay, that Eret would always be there to protect them, that they could protect his siblings, he was powerful enough to.</p>
<p>And while Ranboo completely relaxed into the roles of a peaceful life, and Niki did as well, the thoughts that this was temporary never left her mind. Just now there were more people that she would have to bring with her when it did come time for everything to come crashing down.</p>
<p>Techno had joined that small group of people Niki would make sure were safe when things started to turn against them, very quickly by her standards. It had taken years for her to trust Eret, days for Fundy, but that was just because he was younger. But the piglin had stolen a place in her heart in a matter of weeks, with his monotone voice, awkward waves, and kind gestures. He never told anyone he loved them, opting to just give them gifts to show how much he cared. It had been endearing the first time he had brought a batch of cookies over, saying that he made too many and could not eat them all.</p>
<p>He had seemed sad. And lonely. Weeks later, when the both of them had a little too much to drink, after a particularly stressful week, he had admitted that he had made too much because he forgot that his father and brothers were no longer around. That it was just him, and there was no way he could eat that much. That he was alone.</p>
<p>She watched the tears gather in his eyes, but never fell, staying stagnant in his chocolate brown eyes. How he clenched a shaking hand in a fist, trying to keep himself together.</p>
<p>That was the first time that the deep loneliness that he wanted to see his family again showed itself. That something was keeping him from calling them. Intense guilt was eating away at him from the inside. But no matter how bad it got, how much he looked like he was on the verge of a breakdown, no matter how close the words got to slipping off of his tongue, Techno never told her why. He never told why he could not just call them.</p>
<p>And now things were falling apart. Because of a secret, he could not even admit it to himself. And it was destroyed him.</p>
<p>“Niki,” Wilbur’s voice brought her out of her thoughts, standing in front of the door, staring blankly into the white paint. His lower jaw quivered with emotion that he barely kept inside. She understood the feeling. To see everything he cared about falling apart in front of him. Even after all of these years, Niki had only discovered reactive ways to deal with these problems, not ways to prevent them. Her heart ached for the man almost falling apart in front of her. “Do you think that he is going to be ok?”</p>
<p>Niki let go of the breath she did not know she had been holding.</p>
<p>“Yes.” her voice did not sound as convincing as she wanted it to. “He’s strong--”</p>
<p>Wilbur laughed, cutting her off.</p>
<p>“I don’t think so. Not anymore,” his voice was scratched and broken, “Whatever they did to him, he’s not as strong as he used to be.”</p>
<p>They fell into silence, two inches of wood in between them and the source of their worries. And they both knew that Wilbur was right.</p>
<p>“Do you want to know the last thing that I said to him?”</p>
<p>Her heart stuttered in her chest.</p>
<p>“I called him a stupid piglin. I told him to not come to us if he needed help. He flinched at those words. I should have stopped after that, I <i>should have</i>, but I was so angry, and he was being an idiot, and --”</p>
<p>He took a breath.</p>
<p>“The only thing that I could think while he was getting-- was the fact that the last conversation that we were going to have was going to be a fight. That I would be telling him that I don’t care about him.”</p>
<p>He turned to look at Niki.</p>
<p>“How am I supposed to live with myself if he had been killed?”</p>
<p>The door handle was twisted, and Wilbur walked away, leaving Niki stunned and processing at the threshold.</p>
<p>That was the guilt that Wilbur carried. That was what crushed him. And there was nothing that she could say that would make it better.</p>
<p>With a shake of her head, Niki followed the man into the hospital room, shoving the thoughts down to think about later. Now was not the time.</p>
<p>Only Phil and Ranboo were in the room, Eret and Fundy were still out for food. And Techno’s eyes were still glued shut. The tube that had been shoved down his throat to help him breathe had been removed, although the breathing mask was still strapped to his face. Small victories. She had hated that tube.</p>
<p>“Hello Niki,” Phil said, giving her a soft smile. His eyes had a lively, kind twinkle in them, removing his hand from where it had been comforting Ranboo who was sitting close to the avian. Exactly how a father should be.</p>
<p>How was he staying together through this all? How could he smile at her in such a kind way? How could he be so put together, comforting others, when everyone else around him fell apart?</p>
<p>Niki wished she was as strong as Phil was.</p>
<p>Wilbur looked off to the side to where Techno lay, a constant, shallow, rise, and fall of his chest, eyes lightly closed. His face was unreadable. She could not even begin to place what emotion that was.</p>
<p>He turned on his heel, and sat on the other side of Phil, snuggling up close to his father, wrapping an arm around him, in a demand for comfort. The avian obliged without question, pulling his wings around the two boys that were on either side. Ranboo tensed for a moment, before relaxing into the wrap.</p>
<p>Two boys…. There had been three.</p>
<p>“Where’s Tommy?” she asked, rubbing her arms. Hospitals were always too cold.</p>
<p>“He had to take a walk,” Phil replied, with no hesitation. Wilbur’s eyes were already closed, and Ranboo looked close to the same. Sleep seemed to be the best way to avoid any emotions that they were feeling at the moment. If they were unconscious, then they did not need to feel. If they did not feel, then they did not have to process what was going on.</p>
<p>That, and there was not much to do in a hospital except waiting. Sleep was hard to come by for all of them, Niki herself thinks that she only got a few hours, and those were chopped up between fitful struggles to fall asleep, and fighting the uncomfortable positions that they were all forced into.</p>
<p>“That’s good,” Niki replied, after a few too many moments of silence between them, only noticing the blonde man’s patient expression, and a small nod to talk.</p>
<p>Her eyes drifted back to where Techno was sleeping. He was clean. They must have scrubbed off the grime when he had been asleep, just to prevent infections. Loose, mint green hospital shirt that was just above the scratchy sheets that covered him. He looked almost dead. His chest was barely moving, despite the breathing mask that was strapped to his face.</p>
<p>“They said that his diaphragm was damaged,” Phil said. He looked at his son, eyes full of love, and worry. Just like a father should. “That’s why his breathing is so shallow. He can’t take deep breaths. At least not for a while.”</p>
<p>That. That was where it all came crashing down. That was when it became real.</p>
<p>He couldn’t take a breath. Breathing, the most natural thing to do, and Techno, someone she had grown to love couldn’t.</p>
<p>Tears welled into her eyes and overflowed in a second. Her hands flew to her eyes, trying, just fucking <i>trying</i>, to get rid of the tears, while her heart shattered inside of her chest.</p>
<p>She felt small. So, so small. Like all of those times in the foster homes where she felt small, and defenseless, and knew that there was no way to protect herself if they wanted to hit her, they were going to do it. She couldn’t protect him. And how she could feel herself breaking under the weight of knowing that Technoblade couldn’t breathe.</p>
<p>“Aww, Niki,” Phil’s voice snapped her eyes over to where the man sat, her arms wrapped desperately around herself, while her legs shook. Her entire face scrunched with pain and suffering the tears left to flow freely out of her eyes.</p>
<p>Phil untangled an arm from around Wilbur and extended it to her.</p>
<p>It was three staggering steps to fall into the arm of a father, kneeling before him, throwing her arms around him, and burying her face into his neck.</p>
<p>Violent sobs ripping through her chest, muffling her cries in the avian robes, forcing her eyes to stay closed.</p>
<p>Niki felt her heart shatter, before shattering again, the constant rhythm of rubbing on her back the only thing keeping her from breaking further. Something to focus on. The buildup of emotion crumbled around her.</p>
<p>She wished she could be as strong as Phil, as he whispered words that did not make sense in her incoherent sobbing. She wished her thoughts did not turn to mush in her brain before they were even able to find purchase. The overwhelming numb that came with the tears.</p>
<p>“You’re so strong Niki,” Phil whispered, the horrible realization that she had been talking out loud. “You are doing so well. You are strong. Remember that.”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>Tommy sat in the stairwell of the hospital, finding a relatively empty one to just sit, fiddling with his communicator in his hands. The echo-y silence was too loud in his brain, but the thought of moving only made him angry.<p>He had been texting Tubbo. Catching up with his friend in the very basics of what was happening in the ram’s life. School. Homework. The most recent ungodly amount of money that his father had brought home, and insisted that it was very legal, but also made sure that Tubbo’s lips were sealed before they ordered Olive Garden.</p>
<p>It was domestic. And peaceful. That was how Tubbo’s life had always been. It was just him and the older ram that he called a dad after all. Alone in their little house that smelled of old cigarettes that had not been lit in forever but the smell still lingered, and cheap cologne. There was junk food on the fridge, and always a minimum of twenty dollars stuffed somewhere for emergencies. Warm furniture, and rugs that covered the floor, and low ceilings, with tacky brown wood lining the walls.</p>
<p>But it was home. At least for the father, son duo. Where they could spend as much, or as little with each other as they wanted, depending on the day. Sometimes they would be inseparable, and others, Tubbo said he did not see his dad till the next morning. It was cozy, safe, and theirs.</p>
<p>And Tommy was insanely jealous of that at the moment.</p>
<p>No tears came to his eyes, just an irrational amount of anger burning deep in him, keeping a death grip on his communicator, a few times he was sure he would break it, only for the device to hold up.</p>
<p>It was disappointing how it did not shatter in his hand.</p>
<p>He wanted to throw it against the wall and watch it shatter into a million different pieces, but a <i>ping</i> from his best friend would always keep him from doing that.</p>
<p>They had an assignment in his graphics design class. And various pieces of homework that he would have to do after Phil remembered that school was a thing, and his youngest had not been going to for the past week.</p>
<p>To say the least, he was not looking forward to it.</p>
<p>
  <i>“Big man?”</i>
</p>
<p>The ping almost made Tommy throw his communicator, but for all of the wrong reasons. Anytime a door would open, he flinched, almost falling off the step he sat on because of how violently he did. His chest burned, and not just with anger. A headache pounding the inside of his brain into tender meat, and his stomach churned with discomfort.</p>
<p>He felt bad. Like his nerves had never come down from watching the fight. That his body still felt like he was there, and refused to let him calm down, the panicked feeling so deeply ingrained in him it almost felt normal. If it was not the dizziness that accompanied everything, Tommy could have ignored it all.</p>
<p>Like how Techno had ignored the way that his body felt. Just like how his idiot older brother had been such a fucking dickhead and decided to go back to work before he was ready. How the one person he looked up to the most had abandoned all of them, and ran back to the fighting pit, only to come crawling back to all of them, begging for help.</p>
<p>Tommy wished he had gotten hurt more. Maybe he would start taking things more seriously.</p>
<p>And he hated the way that Phil had just let it happen. At least Wilbur tried to stop him, but they all knew how that turned out. But their father had done nothing.</p>
<p>And now they were in this stupid fucking hospital again, where everything smelled weird, and the doors made too much noise, and Tommy just wanted a normal. Fucking. Night.</p>
<p>
  <i>“Big man? You there? You arlgith?”</i>
</p>
<p>The words echoed around in Tommy’s head before slipping out immediately, and he was left with the stillness that had come before and would stay after. No thought was worth holding onto, but it’s not like he could, even if he wanted to.</p>
<p>It was blank. Everything was blank. If someone had cut him out, Tommy doubted they would find organs or guts. Just a hollow, hollow shell that screamed with anger, dulled but was still willing to use the damaged blade.</p>
<p>It was a little too easy to send back the response. Maybe that should have scared him. Then again, Tommy did not care.</p>
<p>
  <i>“Yeah, I’m fine!!”</i>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Imposter syndrome had grabbed me by the throat and is refusing to let me go. This is why, even though I don't like this chapter, it is here, because I need to move on from it.</p>
<p>However, the cruel reality of time moves on, and I plan on making at least one person cry before I go and join the Void(tm). These are my goals. Yes, I have my priorities straight, what do you mean?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Here, Breath in This Glass</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*looks at the deleted work in my bookmarks*<br/>I do not remember who you are, but you will be missed, my sweet summer child.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Everything around him was cold. No, wait, it was hot. Did he have a body? Why did his chest hurt? Why did his stomach hurt? Was he hungry? That made sense, he did not remember the last time he had eaten, and it must be about dinner time.</p>
<p>Techno wondered what he should make. If he could bring some of it over to Niki, Ranboo’s, and Fundy’s. Have a least a little social interaction for the --</p>
<p>Wait…</p>
<p>His head split with consciousness, wracking it to the base of his skull. Techno could feel a scream building up in his chest before the pain subsided almost immediately. Dampered with static that filled his head.</p>
<p>There was a slow creeping sense of his nerves coming alive all over his body again. A singed and frayed feeling in every inch of his damaged -- everything.</p>
<p>Gods, he was so broken. He was not even sure how he was alive. Hell, even now, as he started to be able to see light beyond his closed eyelids, Techno was not sure he was alive. He was not fighting for it, so why should life just be given to him when he made no efforts to go and chase after it?</p>
<p>A bad thought stuck to his molasses-covered brain like a dirty fly, attracted to the sticky sweet of bare consciousness.</p>
<p>This was the third time he had been given life. The first when he was born brought into the harsh life of the Nether while his herd died slowly around him. The second was by the Lonely King, scooping his small, fragile body into his arms, and holding him close. Shielding the small child from the harsh sunlight that threatened to burn him alive. And the third, he experienced every day with the man he called his father.</p>
<p>All the hours Phil had put into training, feeding, teaching, providing for Techno. All of the arguments that they had, only for him to go back to the avian for comfort. All --</p>
<p>He lost the thought.</p>
<p>Gods he was tired.</p>
<p>There was something the conscious part of his brain was fighting against. Pushing back the drugs that forced him to stay asleep, and dragged him to be awake. To feel the numbness in his body from all of the medication that had been pumped into him.</p>
<p>Why was this so hard?</p>
<p>There was a hitch in his throat, the first time he felt something, and his hand wrapped around the hospital blankets that covered him.</p>
<p>A gasping breath ripped its way out of him, and shards of glass rattled around in his lungs.</p>
<p>Techno started to cough. Violently. His entire body shaking under the force of the cough, each one sending thousands of tiny pieces of glass stabbing his lungs from the inside. Air was getting forced into him before could even process the fact that breathing hurt. That he was getting shredded from the inside, and he needed to calm down.</p>
<p>Tears streamed down his face instantly, trying to curl around himself in pain, his throat closing up, and choking started to set in.</p>
<p>There was a scramble, someone prying his hands off of the sheets, and into a soft, warm hand, rubbing the back of his palm. He grabbed onto the hand, entirely consumed by the agonizing spasm he was forced into, choking and sputtering for air, wet thickness coated his throat.</p>
<p>Finally, <i>finally</i>, after what felt like hours of being caught in a limbo of panic and a horrible ringing in his ears, he caught a breath, and his lungs filled with air, letting the glass drain out of his body in tiny shards that only barely scraped the sides of his throat.</p>
<p>The breaths were short and shallow, but Techno drank the air in with the desperation of a drowning man, relishing in the way that the air did not shred his lungs.</p>
<p>His heart started to calm, calm, to the point where he could start to hear the people around him. The voices starting as just that, voices. A mush of sounds that could probably be words if he focused harder on them. A mumble of different cadences and pitches jammed together.</p>
<p>Techno tried to blink his eyes open, squinting against the light that poured down from painful fluorescent lights.</p>
<p>He groaned at the harshness, trying to muffle it, by shoving his face in the pillow under his head. He twisted around. A shock of fresh pain rippled through him, flinching against the way his body protested to moving.</p>
<p>“--ove Techno. Wi-- can you turn -ff the lights? It’s ok, just --on’t move.”</p>
<p>The voice sounded familiar, and words were starting to make sense again to the wounded piglin. Techno turned his face in the direction of the voice, preparing himself to make another attempt to open his eyes.</p>
<p>A hand cupped the side of his cheek, rubbing the soft fur that covered most of his face. He leaned into the touch immediately, nuzzling his snout into the palm, not having the energy to suppress the little snorts that squealers made from bubbling out of his chest. He knew he would have been embarrassed to make such noises at one point, he knew that. Especially since he knew that there were other people in the room. But he was just tired. So, incredibly tired.</p>
<p>The harsh lights subsided, and Techno sighed in relief but refused to move out of the touch.</p>
<p>“Techno?” a voice came through again. It was much clearer than anything he had heard before. There was a still numbing static to the very edges of his brain, but this voice was too familiar to not recognize. It was the same one that had chirped him to sleep so many times before, helped him while he was sick, and gave him the confidence that he had lost in a matter of months. It was Phil. “Techno, do you think you can open your eyes, mate?”</p>
<p>He wanted to groan at the suggestion. He wanted to shake his head a little bit, and fall back asleep, into blissful nothingness, and never open his eyes ever again.</p>
<p>But his brain was able to hold thoughts again. And he was riddled with guilt that had simmered under the veil of unconsciousness. A pang of guilt that had taken a hold of him when he had first heard the cries of Phil, desperate and broken. And only intensified when the screams of Wilbur joined the folds of his memories.</p>
<p>No, it had been longer than that. It had been so long. But now he could feel it choking him with every bit of anger, and frustration that he felt for himself that had been a build-up for oh-so-long.</p>
<p>So he started to peel his eyes open. Crusted over from hours, upon hours of keeping them closed. It hurt more than the first time he had tried to open his eyes. Even without the light to fight against, it was like he was battling with himself just to lift his eyelids.</p>
<p>One eye slid open, and the blurry vision of Phil came into view, the only real indication that it was him being the green robes that he always wore and the green bucket hat that was placed on top of a pile of golden locks. With only the black wings to frame the rest of him, all the other details were lost to the water gathering in his eyes. Behind him was a splat of pink peeking over his father’s shoulder.</p>
<p>The other eye forced open, and he could pick out the mop of brown hair, and yellow sweater. A mix of black and white not too far behind that person. Orange hair and a red cape were at the very furthest part of his bed. Everything else was painfully white and gave him a headache.</p>
<p>“Hey mate,” Phil rubbed his thumb under one of Techno’s eyes. His voice was wet with unshed tears but still dripped with love that the piglin was sure he did not deserve.</p>
<p>His mind was clearing, and so was his vision. That made it obvious that Tommy was not there. Fundy was there, the other of Niki and Ranboo’s siblings, but there was another man that he did not know. Tall, with sunglasses on even though they were inside, a crown sat atop a mess of brown curls and framed by a red cape. His arms were crossed, and only the slight turn of his head gave away that he was shifting his gaze between every person in the room, over and over again.</p>
<p>“How are you feeling?” Niki’s voice was so far off, and hurt? If that was the right way to put it. Her hands were pulled close to her chest but looked at him with an almost unreadable amount of worry. </p>
<p>He had caused that.</p>
<p>Opening his mouth to speak felt odd. Like there were very thin stitches holding it closed. While it did not take very much force to break them, it still hurt a bit. Biting back a whine, he felt the uncomfortable weight of his tongue in his mouth, feeling like it would just take too much energy to lift it, much less form words.</p>
<p>He deserved this. After everything he had done, he deserved this. Hurting people was never ok.</p>
<p>“I--” Techno was cut off with violent coughs wracking his chest, shaking his whole body. Fuck they hurt. Dragging claws across the flesh under his skin, before piercing the space just below his ribs, and squeezing. The strain of his vocal cords, to the point where he was sure that they were going to snap. Tears started to coalesce in his eyes, a few slipping down his face, while Phil tried his best to soothe the growing pain that shook him.</p>
<p>“It’s ok, Techno. You don’t have to talk.” Niki’s voice was choked out.</p>
<p>“Your diaphragm is damaged,” Phil murmured, rubbing his thumb on the piglin’s fuzzy face. The man’s face was all scrunched together like he was trying to keep himself from breaking down and crying down. Guilt drilled deep down into Techno’s chest. Phil was not supposed to look like this. “So that is going to make it harder to breathe until it gets completely healed.”</p>
<p>That explained the wheezing that left Techno light-headed and the way his lungs shook with every breath, echoing around in his hollow chest.</p>
<p>But fuck it still hurt.</p>
<p>Swallowing the dryness of his mouth, Techno opened his mouth again.</p>
<p>“I feel--” was that his voice? Why did it sound so damaged? Why did it hurt to speak? “Tried.”</p>
<p>Fuck he was tired. Even after waking up, he could feel his eyes starting to slide shut again. Every once in a while, he could shock himself back awake, jumping a little bit off the bed when he did.</p>
<p>There was some disconnect between him and his body. Not quite disassociating, but it was close. He did not feel real, in the sense that a part of him did not want to be real.</p>
<p>That or he was just tired. Exhaustion seemed to be a permanent stitch in his bones nowadays, even before the recent events.</p>
<p>It hurt to take in a breath. There was a metal band around the lower part of his ribs, squeezing his organs. A deep breath made him shudder in pain, curling in on himself a little. God, everything did fucking hurt. The constriction in his chest was the only real thing he could feel. Everything else felt far off and fuzzy. Pain meds were starting to screw with his brain.</p>
<p>Thoughts were getting hard to hold onto.</p>
<p>“You can sleep some more if you need,” Phil reassured, “The doctors are going to keep you here for a few nights to make sure you’re recovering right, before letting you go home. Don’t feel like you have to be awake.”</p>
<p>His head nodded off again, shaking himself back into reality. This was getting hard. Opening his eyes had taken so much more out of him than he had thought.</p>
<p>There was talking, but it was far off, while Techno slipped back under the much gentler embrace of unconsciousness. A slow blink too long, and he was back under, letting his head lull to the side, and drift off into natural sleep.</p>
<p>There was a gentle kiss on the very top of his forehead, vaguely aware of the lips that just graced his skin. With a sigh of content, Techno let himself fall, once again.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>It was odd, seeing the one he had pulled from the flames of the Neither so many years later. Eret had currently never thought there would be a reunion under these circumstances, but this plane of existence continues to surprise him.<p>Even while he talked, the piglin’s words were much more slurred than Techno probably thought that they were. His movements were so ladened and heavy, none of the grace that the supposed great warrior should have. Then again, Eret had seen the condition of the piglin, up to the very end.</p>
<p>A part of him was apathetic to everything that was happening. He had lived through worse, seen worse injuries, and more ripped from the hands of people who had less. They had been true pain in every sense of the word and continued to see the suffering every time they closed their eyes.</p>
<p>But they tried to stop themselves before continuing those thoughts. Because they were dangerous, and the opposite of helpful at the moment. He was not going to pretend that this was the worse that he had ever seen, but that did not mean that it was good, or not traumatic to everyone involved.</p>
<p>Besides, it was not how he truly felt. It was how he thought he should feel, a toxic part of himself that he knew was nothing more than an echo of the world he used to live in.</p>
<p>He had seen the effect this was taking on his siblings, and a protective fire had been started the minute he saw tears in their eyes. The number of times he almost gathered them all up and teleported them back to his castle were too many to count. He stayed because they wanted to stay. Because he knew Niki and Ranboo would insist on staying. And he had never been one to deny them anything. But this was a much bigger problem than any of them.</p>
<p>The brothers had been in a near-catatonic state when they wanted some kind of news. At times, he was not sure that they were breathing.</p>
<p>This had been the first time he had seen Phil in a while, raising children was an easy feat, and they were busy, but this was not the place or time that Eret wanted to meet up with his old friend. Frantically slamming the door open, mania and worry radiating off of the avian.</p>
<p>He had snatched up his children after that, barely giving his old friend a second glance before squirreling his family away, glaring at anyone who got too close.</p>
<p>Eret could not blame him. Even now, he looked really to fly away with all of his nestlings, never to let anyone near them again. Shoulders tense as he gently held Techno’s face while the piglin drifted off to sleep, Wilbur grabbed his hand on the other side.</p>
<p>It was odd seeing the once small piglet so broken. So big, and grown. Logically, he knew that the child would not stay small forever, it had been years since they had seen each other. And after they had taken their siblings under their wings, Eret had even less time to check in with the piglet he had given playership.</p>
<p>And now they were here. Standing in a hospital room. The last bit of consciousness draining from Techno’s body, slipping far beyond their reach. Phil let out a shaky breath, kissing his eldest on the forehead, before turning away from the scene.</p>
<p>“Visit hours are almost over,” he said blankly, not looking at anyone, but also not looking at the floor. His eyes looked on the verge of glassing over. “We should start heading out.”</p>
<p>“You can stay at my server,” Eret immediately offered.</p>
<p>“Are you sure?”</p>
<p>“It’s the least I can do. Besides, I don’t think that any of you are in the mood to travel. I still have enough energy to get us all there in a snap.”</p>
<p>Phil gave a nod.</p>
<p>There was a beat of silence between all of them. A moment where no one even really breathed. There was no purpose to it. There was still work to be done, and yet --</p>
<p>“I’ll go get Tommy,” Phil finally said, walking out of the room.</p>
<p>It did not take long to gather all of the people since most of them were in that room as it was. But none of them talked. Niki drew closer to Wilbur, trying to reach out for his hand, only for him to brush her off. Ranboo stood close to Eret, with Fundy on the other side, keeping his eyes on the ground.</p>
<p>They put their arms around their younger brothers, pulling them in close. Neither Ranboo nor Fundy fought it, following the gentle guidance to snuggle closer to their older sibling. Even pulling their cloak around the both of them, making sure they were snuggled into it as much as they could be. It was the least he could do, at least until they got back home, and he could check in with them individually, away from everyone.</p>
<p>Phil returned not long after that, Tommy following a ways behind his father, crossing his arms, and his eyes glued to the tile floor. The avian fidgeted with his hands, like he wanted to pull his youngest into a hug, but also knew that that was off-limits at the moment.</p>
<p>Since when did this family shatter so much?</p>
<p>With many second glances to where Techno slept, but no official goodbyes, Eret pulled his magic around all of them like a blanket, and warped the world around, shifting it to the halls of their castle.</p>
<p>Damage control, later. Baths now. Everyone needed a moment to process what was happening, and Eret was more than willing to provide a safe place to do that. And he doubted that any of them wanted to go back to their home anytime soon. Bad memories tended to linger when they were so fresh. And remembering the person was sometimes worse than just ignoring what was happening for a while.</p>
<p>With simple instructions of where everything was, and where they all could spend the night, everyone scattered, simultaneously shuffling their feet, but also moving as fast as they could to get away from the others.</p>
<p>The only two that were left in the hallway of bedrooms were Phil and Eret.</p>
<p>They were all so much more broken than he had originally thought. This was going to be a mess.</p>
<p>“I wish we should have met up under different circumstances,” Eret first said, taking off their glasses, and tucking them into his pocket. It seemed like the best way to start. To mourn a calm reunion that had been stripped away.</p>
<p>Phil gave a tight smile, glancing over to the otherworldly being, before returning to looking before him.</p>
<p>“Yeah.”</p>
<p>And that was it. The two broke away in their respective directions to try to piece together as much as they could.</p>
<p>Night one.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yooo!!! He's alive!!! So that's the good news. Bad news is that he is horribly traumatized, but hey, who isn't?</p>
<p>Also, the US and UK government better give Mumza her visa back right fucking now or we are going to start having problems, I swear to god. I will write comfort, Kristian, and Phil stuff in like 30 days when Phil is actually really sad on stream. I'll do it. Writing is how I cope. This is a threat. Because my comfort does not stay comfort for long and will turn into angst. I'm crazy, I'll do it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. This Room Ruined My Life!!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>One day, god will take away my ability to write, and I will be stopped.</p><p>Today is not that day.</p><p>Edit: Sorry, I forgot to give a warning for self-harm. Genuinely so sorry, I will add it to the tags as well.</p><p>TW: self-harm, mental breakdown</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Phil gasped for air, filling his lungs before forcing it out, leaning his whole weight on the wall. His chest stuttered with a crushing sadness that was dragging him to the deepest and darkest parts of his mind.</p><p>Panic and anxiety were wracking him, destroying any sort of front that he had up a few seconds ago, echoing through his brain in a never-ending cacophony of failures being thrown in his face again, and again, and again.</p><p>He reached a hand back, grabbing a handful of his feathers, and pulled as hard as he could, ripping them right out of their sockets. The wings shook with pain, rippling down his back in different waves as his body caught up to the self-mutilation.</p><p>Covering his mouth with a hand, Phil started to take breaths, feeling himself starting to come back to Earth. Methodically, almost like a rhythm, he would reach back, and pull a feather out, dropping it to his feet, before going back again. The pain gave him something to focus on, and the hand made sure that he did not cry out in agony if he caught a particularly sensitive feather. </p><p>He had kept so much inside. So, so much. Every event added to the weight that was crushing him, every look from his sons, every time they pulled back, even whimpering cry they had stuttered out as they slept.</p><p>Phil muffled a small sob in his palm, a whimper dying in his throat, and smothering the distressed chirps that choked him out. This wasn’t the time. He didn’t have the time to fall apart.</p><p>Another feather slipped between his fingers, clutching his eyes shut when he pulled it out of his wing.</p><p>The woman of his mind was dragging him further and further down into the cold. The bite she had given him was starting to go numb, and drowning had lost its sting. It was hard to tell if things were moving fast, or if he had just adapted and gotten used to his new circumstances. His lips still burned through, almost sure that the poison had slipped in his mouth, and was coating his throat in toxins.</p><p>She held him so tightly around the waist, he could almost describe it as tender. He did not remember the last time he had been held like this, maybe when he had been a boy? Held in his mother’s arms after he had a nightmare? It had been so long, he could not help but sink into it. To let the control be taken out of his hands. A parent could not expect their children to give them comfort when things got hard, and Phil had made sure to never put that burden on his sons. He tried so hard to make sure that they had someone strong to run to when things got hard.</p><p>But now, with the ice-cold encasing him at all sides, the water dragging down his wings, and feeling heavy, held in the strong arms of someone else, it felt so nice.</p><p>She stopped moving, the powerful muscles of her tale stopped pushing against the water, and let the both of them just float. It was dark, and the only way his avian eyes could see was through the light that the mermaid seemed to emit herself, shining in the darkness, glowing.</p><p>Her sharp teeth smiled at Phil, still coated with his blood, but with so much love and affection he was willing to overlook it.</p><p>
  <i>You’re doing so well. But you need to help them more. You know that. They are breaking, and only you can put them back together. You need to fix them. Wilbur needs to talk, and Tommy needs you to be there for him. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You don't get that luxury.</i>
</p><p>Claws hands snuck under his robes, and he flinched at the touch, recoiling back from where the sharp fingernails dragged across his skin. But enough to break through it, but it got close. They traced the hundreds of scars that covered his body, after years and years of abuse, feeling the divots that some of the bigger ones left. Feeling the sensitive joints where his wings attached to his back. Phil tried to recoil as soon as her hand barely graced past them.</p><p>She pulled back, pulling him into a deeper hug, completely enveloping him in her arms, to the point where he could not move.</p><p>Before digging her hands into the soft flesh on his sides.</p><p>Phil choked, pushing against her, trying to escape the cuts. She held on tighter, slowly digging in deeper.</p><p>
  <i>Stop moving. You’re doing so well. They need you. You need to stay focused on them.</i>
</p><p>He stopped struggling. The pain was still there, and it burned with saltwater, leaking into the sensitive flesh. The claws kept digging, before lifting out of the wound, jostling the nerves around it.</p><p>Phil sobbed, burying his face into her cold, bare skin as she found another place on his back, and started again, putting the claws in deep before pulling. Riping the muscles, and skin all in one clean cut.</p><p>But his eyes closed, and he relaxed into the warm embrace. Because it was warm. If he imagined hard enough. Then he could forget the dragging claws of the beast, mutilating his sides, and back, once again clouding the water with blood.</p><p>His eyes were getting heavy, seeping even further into the embrace. It was warm. It was warm. He was warm. This was good. If he just kept moving, if --</p><p>--</p><p>--</p><p>--</p><p>What was he doing again?</p><p>Blinking his way back into his body, Phil tried to feel the walls around him, everything feeling loose like it was just a breath away from slipping out of reality. There was a small pile of bloody feathers at his feet, and the sharp pain of ripping them out still spiked through his feathers. His lungs shook with ragged, and intense breaths that shook his breaking body, right down to his very core.</p><p>It was slow. Much slower than the patience that he had for himself at that moment, finding the harsh and cruel words coming easy to his mind, as he tried to shake off his flirtings with a mental breakdown. He didn’t have time for this. He didn’t have time to be breaking over and over again, leaning against a wall with all of his might, knowing that he could collapse into a puddle of self-pity and unproductivity at any moment. And that was not helping anyone.</p><p>Forcing his mind to be present, forcing himself to feel the nerves and way his robes draped around him, and the pull of his wings against him. Phil came back. Shaking his head a few times, gathering up his anxieties, and warning signs that he was starting to crack, and shoved them into a corner, and covered it with a rug.</p><p>There was no time.</p><p>After a few more shakes of his head, Phil ruffled his feathers, poofing them up, before letting them lay back down, the shiver running all through his body. He ignored the way that the air played with the exposed skin of his wings or the way that they felt lighter, and heavier with cold at the same time.</p><p>Berating himself with curses, Phil readjusted his robes and tucked his wings in a specific way so that it would be easier to cover the bald spots. At least, even in his pathetic, whimpering state of breaking, selfish as it was, he had made sure to pull feathers from the inside of the limbs it was easier to fold them in a way that hid his shame. His hands still shook, but then again, he had not drunk a lot of water today. His head still felt cloudy but then again -- that was fine.</p><p>He shoved the bloody feathers into his pocket, swallowing a gag as he touched them. It felt disgusting to touch them. He felt disgusting.</p><p>There was no way of telling how much time had passed, but Phil prayed to the gods that it had not been too much. That he did not eat too much time by being selfish so that his sons had already gone to sleep, and they would not get the chance to talk that night.</p><p>Head filled with fog, and a hole in his chest that seemed impossible to fill, the avian started down the hall, still shaking off the remnants of a breakdown. A thought would come by every once in a while, a completely unhelpful one, that he would destroy before it ever got a chance to take root. <i>‘You need a break,’ ‘you’re breaking too fast,’ ‘if you work yourself to death, you won’t be able to help anyone.’</i></p><p>Useless brain.</p><p>He had spent enough time feeling sorry for himself, and not being the father that his sons deserved. Enough time wasted, too much time wasted, he needed to get to work.</p><p>That was what motivated him to shove every thought of his head. To completely blank his mind, to the point where he could only see white in his mind's eye. If his head was not going to be helpful, he did not need it.</p><p>A comfortable numb feeling washed over him, rewarding him for his efforts. It was easy to slip in and embrace that wrapped around his burning skin.</p><p>Phil kept walking. Down the hall to search for the rooms that Wilbur and Tommy had chosen as their own for the time being.</p><p>This would be fine. Everything was fine. And he was going to make sure of that.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>Wilbur was close to trashing the whole room. His fingers itched at him to do it. To start ripping at the perfect mattress, tearing out the stuffing under the fabric. To smash the chair into hundreds of tiny wooden splinters, watching the perfect craftsmanship shatter against the walls. To rip into the carpet under his feet until only the floorboard was left. To smash everything that even dared look like glass. He wanted it all gone. Destroy it all.<p>It needed to go. It was too perfect. Why was everything so perfect?</p><p>But it was not the perfection that he was mad at. No, it was the fact that he was getting eaten alive by himself. By his madness that had, somehow, slipped its way into his life, and was starting to poison it. It was choking him. His mania was starting to choke him, an anxious feeling of needing to do something, but knowing that there was nothing that could be done. That he was powerless.</p><p>So he sat there, on the edge of a too-perfect bed, knee bouncing with itching energy, waiting for something to drop, and for him to just start tearing the room apart. Glaring at the floor in front of him. This was all a mess. Why was this all such a fucking mess?</p><p>Wilbur knew that there should be someone to blame. That he had every right to blame someone for everything that was happening, but he had been dragged too far down into his mania that those kinds of thoughts did not stay for very long. He just wanted to destroy something. A relationship, himself, another person, a room, it did not matter what it was.</p><p>But something needed to be torn down.</p><p>He was close to starting ripping things apart when a knock echoed through his door. Irritation and anger immediately flared through his skin, digging his nails into the back palms of his hand, and gritting his teeth together. He wanted to kill whoever had just knocked.</p><p>“Wilbur? Are you still awake?” Phil’s voice was slightly muffled through the heavy wooden door, but it was still obviously his father. This only subsided the rage a little bit. His need to rip something apart did not leave.</p><p>“Yeah.” He wished his voice was hollow, but the venom that dripped off of it was too sweet.</p><p>“Can I come in?”</p><p>He wanted to say no. Gods he wanted to say no. To just be left to stew in his madness and rage, to destroy every bit of the room, until he felt better. Wilbur was not sure what made him give out a small, “sure,” to Phil’s request, but he almost immediately regretted it.</p><p>The man poked his head through, before swinging the door open the rest of the way to slip in, closing it behind him.</p><p>The avian walked with heavy steps, making sure that his son knew where he was at all times. The mania swirled into more rage as the man pulled up a chair, sitting across from him, but making sure to give enough room so he did not get suffocated. The thought of choking him out scared Wilbur more than he wanted to admit. It scared him, that he was more willing to admit he had the thought than the fact he was starting to become scared of his own mind.</p><p>“How are you doing, Wil?”</p><p>It was such a simple question. One that had not been asked since this whole thing had started almost two weeks ago. And the mania was immediately snuffed out, along with most of the rage, leaving behind an amalgamation of emotions that pressed painfully against his chest, until he was forced onto his feet, gesturing wildly into the air around him.</p><p>“Oh I don’t know, let’s think about this, shall we? How am I doing? Well, I had to help carry my brother into the hospital, what a few weeks ago while he was bleeding out, and we have no idea why. And I had to wait in a fucking waiting room, not sure if he was going to die or not, until lo-and-behold, he’s not dead, but he has to come back home with us. Then he tries to get up before he is ready, and is just acting strange all around, but I guess no one was going to question that.</p><p>“Then I do literally thirty seconds or research and learn that, ‘hey, his boss is kind of shady’ and when he is about to leave, I question him about it because, hey he’s my brother. And then he storms out, not giving anyone any answers, and the last words that I tell him are to ‘not call us when he needs help, because we are not going to give it to him.’ And then we learn that he is getting admitted to illegal gambling rings, and he is going to have to fight a drugged zoglin that night.</p><p>“So we rush there, and we watch him get the shit beat out of him, almost dead, and I take off running as soon as the respawn star activates, and I see him screaming in pain, and fighting against the restraints that they are forcing him into, and all that I can think about is how I had told him to not come to us, and I didn’t mean it, but he was going to die before I could tell him that I am just worried about him, and want him to be safe.</p><p>“And now he’s back in the hospital, and he’s hurt, and probably still thinking about what I said, but I didn’t mean it. I -- I didn’t! I didn’t --”</p><p>The tears were free-falling down his face, staining his cheeks and landing on the floor in fat clumps. Rubbing the heel of his hand desperately into his socket, trying to hold it together. The mania was easier than this. Mania was a single want for destruction to fill the hole that had been ripped in him. This was guilt and grief, and shame all wired together until he was about to crumble. He was breaking.</p><p>Wilbur’s legs felt wobbly under him, his voice choked out by sobs that were starting to work their way through him, stuttering in his chest, while the rest of him caught up with what he had said.</p><p>Two arms wrapped around him, and he immediately clung to the robes, burying his face into the shoulder of his father, and breathing in the familiar smell. The wings blocked out a lot of the light, leaving them in a warm, safe little cocoon where he could cry his eyes out.</p><p>He was exhausted. Holding the tears in for so long, covering them up with levels and levels of mania and masks had taken its toll, and he could not wait a moment longer to sink into the embrace of his father.</p><p>“It’s ok Wil,” Phil whispered, running a hand through his curls, feeling him slowly work out the tangles, “you did amazing. Techno is alright, and he is alive. There is still time to apologize. I’m sorry, I should have checked in sooner. I should not have assumed that everything was alright. You were so brave, that should have never been asked of you.”</p><p>Wilbur whimpered at the words, nosing his way deeper into Phil’s collar bone, and clenching his eyes shut, grabbing at the fabric with all of his might. It felt so nice to just fucking hear those words. Just to know that he had tried. He knew that there were mistakes and that he could have done better, but he also knew that he had <i>fucking tried</i>.</p><p>He tightened his grip around Phil’s neck a little and basked in the protectiveness of his father. Everything was going to be ok. Phil was here. So everything had to be ok.</p><p>“Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?”</p><p>Wilbur shook his head, the best he could, sobbing a little more, and pressing his eyes into the crook of the avian's neck.</p><p>“Do you just want me to stay here?”</p><p>Yeah. That sounded nice.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>By the time Wilbur had cried himself to sleep, getting tucked into his bed, it was well past midnight, and Phil felt dead on his feet, basically dragging them down the hall. It had been good for Wil just to have him listen. Just to be there for a while, and help him through his thoughts, and worries.<p>He had whispered reassurance, as slowly as he could as to not overwhelm his son, rubbing his back with constant motions, methodically taking the tangles out of his hair.</p><p>And now he was exhausted.</p><p>Emotionally, and mentally done, his arms felt like they were going to fall off at any moment. And yet he still had one more son to check up on. A part of him was happy that it was so late, meaning that there was more chance that Tommy was asleep, and he could finally crash for the day as well.</p><p>And he hated himself for that thought.</p><p>Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, rolling his shoulders back, Phil lightly knocked on Tommy’s door, bating his breath for a response.</p><p>Nothing.</p><p>Another knock, but a little louder.</p><p>Still nothing.</p><p>There was no sound from the other side, but he still wanted to make sure that he was alright.</p><p>Grabbing the handle very, very gently, Phil inched the door open, peeking inside, trying to make sure that as little light entered as possible.</p><p>There was his beautiful little boy. Curled up admits plush blankets pulled tight against him, wrapping them tightly around himself, turning away from where Phil was standing. Despite being so tall, taller than Phil was, he seemed so small. It was hard to make out the details of the boy, but he understood the general shape of his youngest, curled up tightly against the blankets.</p><p>Like the first day, when he had brought the little boy home. A shivering, cold baby, found in a cardboard box at the end of an alley, not unlike how he had found Wilbur, but the distinct difference was that this one was, well, much smaller. Defenseless. Where his middle child had been raised to survive, walls that he had been still working to tear down at that moment.</p><p>He had wrapped the boy up the best that he could, and taken him home to his other boys, presenting their new, sick brother to the piglin and human. Tommy had been small and stayed that way through most of his childhood. Often getting sick, and needing a few days bed rest to get over it.</p><p>Only once did it get really bad.</p><p>Despite the snide comments that Techno made about his brothers, Phil did not doubt for a second that the piglin was happy to have others around him. He was a pack creature at heart, an instinct that could not be taken away by just giving playership, and the more he had in his herd the better.</p><p>Wilbur had been jealous, for a while. Especially when Phil had to spend so much time making sure that Tommy stayed healthy. But he had warmed up to the small boy fast enough, and soon the three brothers were inseparable.</p><p>The thought felt like a stab in his chest. It hurt to look at the sleeping boy, so peaceful in these unconscious moments, but there was a storm waiting for him when he woke up.</p><p>As quietly as he had come, Phil shut the door and staggered down the hall to where his guest room was.</p><p>It was nice looking, but his eyes immediately snapped to where the bed was, all but collapsing into it, barely slipping off his wooden sandals before curling under the covers.</p><p>In the deep recesses of his mind, the self-destruction rewarded him for his efforts and kindly berated him for not getting to all of his sons in the same night, before setting him about his new task.</p><p>And he was too tired to fight it, slipping its sweet words and stinging wounds. And as his eyes slid shut, carrying him off to the blissful darkness of sleep, the exhaustion that had stitched itself into his bones finally overriding his need to be useful, his mind still buzzed with activity, as he was pulled deeper, and deeper, and deeper, and --</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>It's a mental breakdown *kazoo noises*</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Spoon.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My college is on a week break, so ya'll's are going to get spoiled this week. Making sure you all stay fed.<br/>Also, I am going to add trigger warnings to all chapters from here out, because I missed a big one last chapter, and still feel bad about it.</p><p>TW: panic attack, injury description</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Ranboo…. Ranboo!!”</p><p>The ender hybrid groaned and, rolled over to try to get away from whoever was shaking him. He had only just gotten his mind to shut off and go to sleep, and that was not something that he was going to let go of lightly.</p><p>“Ranboo! Wake up!”</p><p>He relented, turning to face whoever was so determined to get him awake, to come face to face with a grinning, blonde-haired boy, with a flashlight in one hand, and a spoon in the other.</p><p>“Tommy?”</p><p>“Good, you’re awake, do you want to go somewhere?”</p><p>“Tommy, it’s like,” the light from his clock burned his sensitive eyes, but he could just make out the numbers, “twelve forty at night. We got back like three hours ago, what are you doing up?”</p><p>“I can’t sleep, and I have a friend who said that I can come over.”</p><p>Ranboo pulled himself up to a sitting position, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, and let his jaw unhinged to yawn. He wanted to sleep, and it had taken so much work to get to sleep the first time, at this point, it was going to be impossible to get back to sleep. And the reasoning for getting woken up was absolutely idiotic.</p><p>Harsh, but he was tried, and really did not want to get dragged from his warm bed.</p><p>“And? Why did you wake me up? You could have just gone on your own.”</p><p>“I don’t know where the exit portal is, idiot, we got teleported here,” Tommy said with a sigh, annoyance dripping off of his voice, “get dressed and let’s go.”</p><p>And that’s how Ranboo found himself walking through the streets of the kingdom, a hoodie, and sweatpants, the one thing keeping him warm, with Tommy walking with determination beside him. The air was cold, and unpleasant, especially when the feeling of warm covers and a bed were still fresh in his mind. Yawning again, desperately trying to shake off the exhaustion, Ranboo turned his attention to Tommy, who basically skipped next to him, the flashlight giving them a path to follow, with his other hand fidgeted with the spoon.</p><p>Ah yes, the spoon. The one that Eret had given to him to keep the teen from picking at his hang-nails and cuticles after they were allowed in Techno’s room. Just something to mess with so he did not hurt himself, but neither of them had anticipated him still carrying it around. Maybe for like an hour or two before it got forgotten, but it was still there, and he was still rubbing the dip off it, almost mindlessly.</p><p>But hey, who was Ranboo to judge. If it helped, then it helped, and Tommy needed as much help as he was willing to take.</p><p>That was a big part of the reason that he was even out here, walking him to the giant shrine that surrounded the portal that would take them to the main hub for servers. It was not hard to find, there were directions and signs all over the place, and despite the late hour, people were still out and about, so asking for directions would not have been hard. And this was Eret’s kingdom, one of the safest servers out there, courtesy of its ruler, so Tommy would not have to worry about being hurt.</p><p>Despite his tired state, Ranboo believed that Tommy wanting him to go with had to do more with the fact that he was sticking very close to the ender hybrid. Right next to him, to the point where they were almost touching each other. The way that the blonde would wait for him if he got even a little too far ahead, but kept talking about nonsense that was just going right over the hybrid’s tired brain. How aware he was of where Ranboo was at all times and making sure he was close.</p><p>Chances are, Tommy didn't want to be alone, and the walk to his friend's house alone must have been too unbearable for him to do alone. And he had already seen Tommy’s reaction to Phil trying to reach out, and Wilbur was in no state to provide a steady rock for his younger brother. So, a half enderman.</p><p>Ranboo did not know whether to be honored or worried.</p><p>“-- and Tubbo said that there is this new building that he found that he’s been waiting to explore. But don’t you go stealing my best friend, he’s mine, and you’re just here to escort me to the portal.”</p><p>“Wait what?”</p><p>Tommy did not stop but looked up at the much taller teen. His brow furrowed and scrunched in annoyance.</p><p>“I don’t like how much taller you are than me.”</p><p>“I-I’m sorry?”</p><p>“Yeah, well you’re not forgiven. You’ll be forgiven when you shrink, are we almost there?”</p><p>“Um, yeah, it’s right --”</p><p>The blonde broke out into a run, bolting past the houses that lined the streets, the trees that were plated along the cobblestone walk road, and to the portal that stood on almost on the outside of the city. Walls encased the whole civilization, with the entire thing being spawn-proof of any creatures that were going to disturb the people who lived there. Again, one of the safest servers out there.</p><p>The portal was decorated with glass flowers, glowing with a faint blue, and its frame almost was that of an old victorian picture frame. This portal had been very important to Eret when they had made it. They wanted it to be beautiful, and the first thing that people saw when they came here. To let them know that they did not have to suffer anymore. That they could rest for as long as they needed to, even if that was forever. They were not alone anymore.</p><p>Rambo had watched his older sibling heal many people just by giving them a space to be safe and be themselves. So many people from different backgrounds, and hardships had come through his portal, some scars easier to see than others. Each one was greeted with open arms, food, and comforts that maybe they had not gotten before. It was the kind of gentleness that Eret had that made people feel safe.</p><p>And now, looking at Tommy as both of them were transported out of this world of safety and healing, and into the hub that was much more dangerous, he watched as there was a slight waver in Tommy’s expression. A hunch on his shoulders.</p><p>He decided to not comment on it. </p><p>The walk through the hub was crowded as normal. There were food vendors, and games that people liked to play here, always alive with people. There would, occasionally, be hours where people would go to the actual servers when a special event was happening, but if someone needed to get away for a while, they could come to the hub and cool off. People were looking at maps, asking for directions, sitting at outdoor bars, and just having a drink. It was by no means a crazy place to be, and calm music almost always seemed to fill the air, but that did not make it any less crowded.</p><p>Tommy leads them expertly through, dodging out of the way of people, and never muttering an apology, focusing on getting to the right portal. Ranboo followed close behind, a string of ‘sorry’s’ and ‘watch out!’ following him. It was hard to walk through crowds being as tall as he was, but he was determined to not lose the blonde, so he had to practically shove people out of the way to keep up.</p><p>It was not until they saw a portal out in front of them, lined with bricks and vines. Homey, like a crackling fire, and warm drinking.</p><p>Tommy went into it without a moment's hesitation, only stalling a little to make sure he had not lost his companion. Ranboo was quick to follow.</p><p>The other side was a much different story than its front. It opened to the more official-looking alcove, with too shiny floors, and walls with wooden lining, pictures hanging all through them. It was a little alcove that the portal was shoved into, with no special decorations, or anything, just a sign over the door in golden lettering saying “Welcome to Manburg.”</p><p>The blonde rushed back the sign, and the receptionist who could care less about who had just arrived so late at night, and into the much colder air of the outside. They were in the downtown of a city. Not as big as the one that he and Niki lived in but not a small city either. One where it was still easy to get lost in the crowd, but there was still a chance to see a friend at a grocery store. With old builds, still nestled between the newer ones, art sprinkled around the courtyards, and plazas, outside seating, and lights strung up everywhere. A fresh, new layer of slow covered every surface, people walking around in heavier coats, enjoying the quiet of the night.</p><p>Tommy all but ran past all of the peaceful enjoyment of the people, making a beeline right through the people, taking twists and turns almost faster than he had when they were in the hub. He looked back more often to make sure the ender hybrid followed, but still kept his eyes right forward.</p><p>Another turn and they stopped at the entrance of an ally that cut through two of the buildings, wide, and lit with the lanterns up above, it did not seem very dangerous. Near the middle of the alley, watching his breath turn to mist in front of him, was another teen. He had a green and brown winter coat on, with two little horns sticking out through his fluffy brown hair, hands shoved into his coat pockets, with a slight smile on his face. His goat ears twitched as soon as their shoes clicked against the brick floors, turning to face them.</p><p>A giant, ecstatic grin stretched across his face as soon as he saw Tommy, running forward and pulling the taller into a huge hug, his hooved feet clacking as he ran.</p><p>“Dude! Big man, you’re here!” he said, pulling back to get a whole look at his friend.</p><p>Tommy looked a little broken at the loss of the hug, almost like that was what was going to push him to tears. But he forced his arms to stay at his side and looked the other teen into his square eyes.</p><p>“You’re so damn clingy.”</p><p>“Oh piss off, you were the one who was gone for like two weeks. Where the hell have you been?”</p><p>“Oh well, you know. Family stuff.”</p><p>A shiver ran down Ranboo’s spine at the tone. Tommy was barely holding himself together. Now more than ever, that was plain to see. He seemed ready to fall into the arms of the goat boy, and cry his heart out until he could no longer feel a thing, and yet somehow he was standing up straight. Forcing a grin on his face, rubbing the spoon.</p><p>This was not healthy.</p><p>“Who's your friend?”</p><p>“Tubbo, this is Ranboob, Ranboob, this is Tubbo.”</p><p>“Why do you have ‘boob’ in your name?”</p><p>“What? No?” Ranboo immediately tried to backpedal. He did not need this to be the first impression. “It’s Ranboo.”</p><p>“Ohh, that makes a lot more sense than ‘Ranboob,’” Tubbo said, looking between the two, “although, ‘Ranboob’ would be more fun.”</p><p>“I suggested that he change it, but he didn’t want to,” Tommy said, shrugging a bit at his comment.</p><p>“What? No, you didn’t?”</p><p>“Yeah, well, you should change it, it would be funny. Tubbo agrees.”</p><p>“I agree.”</p><p>Oh great, these two were going to be fun.</p><p>Ranboo signed. </p><p>“Isn't there someplace that you wanted to go?”</p><p>“Oh yeah! Follow me, I’ll take you. It’s not too far. I found it a few days ago and was just waiting for you to come back, so we could explore it.”</p><p>“Oh my god, I’m back now, let’s just go. It’s too fucking cold here anyway.”</p><p>“Right! This way.”</p><p>And they were off. Following Tubbo a few steps behind him, bantering and yelling at each other as they did. Ranboo found himself slipping right into their dynamic, without any real effort, or even him noticing. It was after he refuted something that Tommy said did he become aware of the bubbling sense of excitement in his chest.</p><p>He had never had a lot of friends growing up, especially not in the foster system, and afterward, he had mostly just been learning how to be a normal person. Besides, his siblings kept him company more often than not. Only recently did he feel the need to get some friends which has been part of the reason he had left the safety of his older sibling and following Niki to a new life in a big city.</p><p>And even if he knew that what both he and Tommy were doing was unhealthy, even if he knew that they should be working through their emotions, rather than suppress and forget about them, he did not fight the way that his worries slipped away when he was laughing at a joke that Tubbo made, or sassing a comment that Tommy had said. It was easy. Easier than most things he had done.</p><p>So he went along with it.</p><p>And the trio found themselves walking and laughing all the way to the outside of the city limits, and the nearby forests, turning on flashing lights to light their path, something that both Tommy and Tubbo had packed. The spruce forest is thick with trees, and its own, much less disturbed layer of snow on the ground. Night birds filled the air with song, only broken by the crunch on their boots and hooves against the forest floor.</p><p>Their voices traveled through the dead of night, scattering the little creatures that called this place their home, as they traveled deeper and deeper into the forest. The brush was starting to get thick, and Ranboo started to worry that they were going too far when there was something off in the distance.</p><p>An old, partially decayed house, towering over them, but still tightly nestled between all of the trees around it. Vines ripped into the warped wood, the windows were long since broken, with foliage eating away at its rotting corpse.</p><p>It was pretty. In a decaying sort of way. Or Ranboo would have thought it was pretty, if it was daytime, and the only light that was being shed on it was from flashlights. Odd shadows moved just out of their field of vision, skipping across the edges of windows and broken doors, waiting for the three to step in.</p><p>And then Tommy and Tubbo started to step into the raised porch out front of the house.</p><p>“Wait!” anxiety was starting to crawl up his throat. The house looked infested, bugs crawling around just under the first layer of wood, and the wind was starting to pick up, making it creak and groan with age. “A-are we really going in?”</p><p>“I mean yeah, of course, we’re going in,” Tommy was already at the entrance of the door, and everything in Ranboo wanted to pull him away from it. “What are you, a pussy?”</p><p>“It’s perfectly fine,” Tubbo chimed it, right behind his friend, “we’ve done this loads of times before, and we’ve never gotten caught, we’ll be fine.”</p><p>The two of them turned and disappeared into the void of the house, and the hybrid had to pick up his pace to catch up with them.</p><p>“Getting caught is not what I am worried about,” he mumbled, ducking under the threshold into the house.</p><p>The inside was more rickety than the outside, the floorboards creaking with every step that one of them took. The center of the main room’s floor was completely rotten away, leaving behind a giant hole filled with murky water that made it hard to see the bottom of, with a broken staircase off to the side, and a row of windows off to the other. Ahead was a giant archway that led deeper into the first floor, but you would have to skirt around the pool of water to get over there.</p><p>There was another gust of wind, making Ranboo jump at the way the whole house seemed to shake under the force of it.</p><p>“What are you, scared?” Tommy jeered, walking around the pool of water, without checking any of the boards to make sure that they could hold his weight. Tubbo a few steps behind him, but was being cautious with his steps, giving his friend an odd look when he did not do the same. “It’s just wind.”</p><p>“This is not the most structurally sound building,” he walked up next to Tubbo, following the two of them up, but making sure to put his feet right where Tubbo did.</p><p>“It’s alright, we’ll be ok,” Tubbo smiled at him, before continuing to follow, but there was a more ridge slump in his shoulders, keeping his eyes locked on Tommy.</p><p>The rest of the first level was not that interesting. Through the arch was another decayed room, a kitchen was what it looked like from the cabinets and stove. The floorboards were even more rotten here, some of them sagging under their weight. Ranboo and Tubbo stuck close to the walls, where the floor was least likely to break, while Tommy walked where he pleased, opening things, reaching in, and never checking where he was going to step next.</p><p>The ram hybrid was starting to shift uncomfortably, watching his best friend's sporadic movements, his ears twitching with worry every once in a while, tracking every action that he took. Tubboo flinched a couple of times like he was going to run out to Tommy and pull him back from hurting himself. When the teen was particularly reckless with his well-being, but kept a smile on his face, making jokes at the other two, calling them ‘pussies’ for not following.</p><p>Neither of them was smiling. Tubbo was tense next to him, and that tension did leave when they left the kitchen, and Tommy started to make a beeline for the staircase.</p><p>It was old, like everything there, and the steps sagged under years of abuse, both of the hybrids keeping a death grip on the railing and choosing their steps carefully.</p><p>Tommy did not.</p><p>“Hey, Tommy,” Tubbo finally called out, once they made it to the second level. There was a third, but a little alcove room opened the second floor to them, with a door off to the side of that. “Be more careful, this place could come down, and it’s not made of concrete, it’s wood, and it could break at any moment.”</p><p>“Oh calm down, there’s nothing to be scared of,” he turned to face them, opening his arms out to show how confident he was. He started to walk backward into the alcove of the second floor.</p><p>Tubbo's eyes bulged out of his head.</p><p>“Don’t do that! Are you insane? That’s so dangerous,” he yelled, still keeping at the top step with Ranboo.</p><p>“Oh, not you too,” Tommy rolled his eyes.</p><p>“I think we should go, Tommy.”</p><p>“What? Why?”</p><p>“Because you're acting weird! And you’re going to get hurt if you keep running around this house without checking anything first.”</p><p>“I’m not acting weird! Oh my god, Ranboo, please talk some sense into him.”</p><p>“Tommy, I agree with him,” Ranboo and Tubbo were both still in the top step, but Tommy was slowly walking over to the opposite side of the room where a dresser stood, all of its drawers closed. The floorboards looked wet and decaying, and like they were going to collapse at any moment. Anxiety spiking in Ranboo’s throat, again, and he could feel himself starting to panic. “Tommy, please just come back, the others will worry about us if we are gone for too long.”</p><p>“Ugh! You two are no fun.”</p><p>“Please, Tommy,” Tubbo’s knuckles were turning white they were so gripped on the railing, and his voice was choked with fear. Ranboo felt the same way, watching with wide eyes as Tommy stepped further away. “You’re scaring me.”</p><p>Tommy stopped. The fear that was bleeding through Tubbo’s voice was painful and stabbed the teen in a place he never thought would be touched. His smile dropped a bit, bouncing his gaze between the two that begged for him to get off of the old, rotten floor.</p><p>“Ok, we’ll leave.”</p><p>Tubbo let out the breath he had been holding, reaching out a hand to his friend to come back to safety.</p><p>Tommy took a step. And the floor crumbled under his foot.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>“Tommy!” Tubbo screamed, feeling his heart drop in his chest, nausea quickly overtaking him as he watched the almost limp body of his best friend fall. He felt so fucking sick, having to keep a death grip on the railing to keep himself from running forward and following him.<p>The sickening <i>crack</i> of the floor followed by the splash of water, and a scream of pain made Tubbo’s skin crawl, tripping over his hooves as he ran down the old steps of the house.</p><p>Tommy was there, laying in the dirty water, on his side, not moving. Tubbo splashed into the shallow water without a moment’s hesitation, dropping to his knees immediately, and pulling the teen's head above the water, draping his body over his lap.</p><p>“Ow, ow, ow! Tubbo, stop!” Tommy cried, pulling one of his arms close to his body. </p><p>“Tommy! Are you ok? Did you break anything, are --”</p><p>“Tubbo, tubbo, waitwaitwait.”</p><p>“What, what? What happened?”</p><p>“Where’s my spoon?”</p><p>He had to stop himself from physically backing up.</p><p>“Your spoon?”</p><p>“Yes. Tubbo, where is my spoon?”</p><p>Why was Tommy's voice starting to panic? Of course, Tubbo had seen the spoon, it had been in Tommy’s hand since the two of them had met up again, but he just did not mention it because the blonde had been acting weird. Between their texts, and as soon as he had laid eyes on his best friend, Tubbo knew that there was something wrong, and was hoping that this could help take his mind off of it. But losing a spoon is no reason to panic.</p><p>“Tommy, wha- I don’t understand.”</p><p>“You’re not listening! My spoon, I need my spoon!”</p><p>Tommy’s breathing was starting to pick up, thrashing his way out of Tubbo’s embrace, and was scraping his hands along the bottom of the puddle.</p><p>Tubbo caught a glimpse of his mutilated arm, the jacket completely torn, with a large cut running all the way down, blood slowly leaking out of it.</p><p>“Tommy! You’re bleeding! We need to get you --”</p><p>“No, Tubbo! I need my spoon.”</p><p>“Why? Why on earth do you need --”</p><p>“Tubbo, I just -- I fucking need it, ok? I,” his words were getting slurred and stuttered together, whether that was from the ice-cold water he was almost completely submerged in, or the fact that he was on the verge of a panic attack was hard to tell. “Tubbo, I need it, I need the spoon, I, I’m, I need, I’m, fuck, please Tubbo, I…”</p><p>Tubbo pulled him into a hug, squeezing his body as tight as he could to try to ground him, as fat tears poured down Tommy’s face.</p><p>“Tubbo please,” he was begging. Begging! His best friend, Tommy, was begging. The brash, reckless Tommy was clinging onto the fabric of his coat, but also trying to pull away from the embrace. “Please, I need to find it.”</p><p>Tubbo did not know what to say. He was frozen in the face of a situation where he did not know everything. With Ranboo standing on the side of the pool, fiddling with his hands, his face creased with concern, and Tommy sinking into, and also pulling away from his embrace. Sobbing. He was fucking sobbing.</p><p>What had happened?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Bench trio, my beloved.</p><p>Also, the amount of people who o7'd Philza's mental stability last chapter makes me very happy, thank you for this</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. I'm Sorry</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A healthy reminder that I do write all of these chapters in one sitting and late at night. Sleep deprivation has made me her bitch, and I will not fight that.</p>
<p>TW: mild, mild reference to suicide, but it is barely there</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had taken a while for Tubbo to calm Tommy down. Guilt buried into Ranboo, all he could do was watch the boy shiver with unresolved emotions, and the cold that's starting to bite harder the more the night continued. He could only imagine how the two of them felt, covered in dirty water.</p>
<p>He couldn’t go into the water. If he could have, he would have been there already. His biology forced him to stay on the outskirts of the pool, uncomfortably shifting from one foot to the other. While Tubbo stroked Tommy’s back, trying to give him reassuring words, occasionally glancing over to where Ranboo was to get some kind of support. All he could do was give a nob, and try to keep the deep-seated concern off of his face.</p>
<p>It never worked.</p>
<p>After what felt like hours, the ram hybrid was able to convince Tommy to get out of the water, helping him stand onto two shaky legs, and lead him out.</p>
<p>They did not find the spoon.</p>
<p>Nor was anyone really in the mood to look for it. As soon as they stepped out, the cold air immediately started to freeze the parts of their skin that were still dripping with water. It took very little convincing to get a shivering Tommy to climb onto Ranboo’s back, draping him with the only dry coat that the three of them had, and started to make their way back to Tubbo’s house.</p>
<p>Both of them were shaking with the cold. Tubbo’s entire lower half was soaked, and almost Tommy’s whole body had been submerged. Ranboo could feel his skin starting to sizzle because of how wet the boy on his back had been, feeling his violent shivering from where he held onto him. Burying his face in the crook of the hybrid’s neck, staying eerily silent.</p>
<p>There was the occasional sniffle and muffled sob, which would quickly be followed by Tubbo’s attempts to make him feel less alone, but overall silence followed them through their walk.</p>
<p>It would have been better if he had been able to convince Tommy not to go, if Ranboo had just been able to not let him leave, none of this would have happened.</p>
<p>But he knew that that was not possible. While he did not know the brash blonde for very long, he knew enough to know that there was no way to convince him out of something once he set his mind to it. Going with him, and making sure that he was safe had been the best option.</p>
<p>So why did Ranboo feel so guilty, carrying Tommy’s shaking frame? What had he done wrong that made him feel this way?</p>
<p>He wanted to apologize. For what, he didn’t know, and Niki had always said to be specific in apologies, that way it was more genuine. That you could truly understand what you did wrong and be sorry for it.</p>
<p>Right now, Ranboo just felt miserable, and he was not the one who had been dunked in ice-cold water, and now was toeing the line with hypothermia.</p>
<p>“We’re almost there,” Tubbo chimed, gazing up to the tall hybrid to catch his eye. He was smiling. Just under the messy mop of brown hair, and tightness that had been slowly taking over his entire facial features. “Just a little further.”</p>
<p>They were a bit outside of town at the moment, old asphalt road under their feet, leading up to a little two-story cabin. Houses were more spread out here, but this one was at the very end of the road. It was surrounded by trees that stretched to a broader forest behind it, slightly falling apart, but it was clear that someone had taken the time to put it back together again. Smoke billowed from a stone chimney, and a warm light shone through the gaps in the curtains.</p>
<p>Tubbo led the way up the warn porch stairs, immediately opening the painted green door and ushering the two in. </p>
<p>“Go to the living room, I’ll get something to help…”</p>
<p>“Tubbo? Tommy? You two back so soon?” a gruff, deep voice rounded the corner and appeared in the archway of the main foyer. A tall, built man, wearing a loose t-shirt and sweatpants, with large ram horns curling around his fluffy ram ears. A coffee mug in one hand and the other tracing the mutton chops that he had allowed to grow onto his face, along with a similar set of messy brown hair to Tubbo’s, but his was much more curly than the teens. He stood taller than Ranboo on his hooves, looking at the scene in front of him, having to physically stop to make sure he was getting everything right. “What the fuck?”</p>
<p>Eloquent.</p>
<p>“Dad,” Tubbo looked ready to run into the man’s arms, and disappear from the world, Ranboo would not have blamed him, he wanted to do much the same. But the ram teen stopped himself and turned back to where Tommy was resting on Ranboo’s back. “It’s Tommy, he--he--”</p>
<p>“Bring him into the living room,” and with a sip of the mug, the tall ram turned and went deeper into the house, showing a little fluffy tail that contrasted the rest of his color scheme.</p>
<p>They all followed, passing through a hallway, and out into a living room, worn coaches pushed against almost every wall, with blankets draped over all of them. A warm rug, and raring fire that stood inside a carefully crafted fireplace, with a TV mounted above it. Any part of the room that did not have a couch had a shelf, and those were filled with picture frames, books in various languages, and odd little trinkets that were probably either found on the ground or at a thrift store. Dare light bulbs lit the room, and the ram led them to the very center of the room, before putting down his mug on the coffee table, and turning to face the trio.</p>
<p>He looked at Ranboo. The ender hybrid had to stop himself from flinching at the yellow square eyes, and inhuman flat nose that Tubbo did not have. He moved on to the mop of blonde hair that was resting on the teen's shoulder and sniffed in.</p>
<p>“Well?” he gestured to the coach in front of them, a little more theatrical, and sarcastic than what Ranboo would have expected out of a parent, but jumped into action anyways, depositing the teen, before backing up, allowing the ram to step forward, and kneel next to Tommy. “What happened?”</p>
<p>“We were exploring the abandoned house that I told you about,” Tubbo started immediately, now really looking on the verge of a breakdown, with the tears that were just standing in his eyes, “and Tommy was being super reckless and dangerous --”</p>
<p>“Oh fuck off mate,” Ranboo did jump at the scratchy voice of Tommy, those being the first words that they had heard from him since they had convinced him that it was a lost cause to continue looking for the spoon.</p>
<p>“You were!” Tubbo stomped his foot on the ground, eyes ballooning with irritation and fear, as the moment where Tommy fell through the floor flashed through his eyes again.</p>
<p>“Ok, just tell me what happened,” Tubbo’s dad almost barked, his eyes still taking in everything that was Tommy at that moment, but not touching him.</p>
<p>“Well, we were exploring the upstairs, and Tommy stepped over a really rotten and decaying floo --”</p>
<p>“It wasn’t decaying, it was fine,” Tommy chimed in again, annoyance dripping off of his voice.</p>
<p>“It was rotting!”</p>
<p>“Boys, please, just tell me what happened,” the ram’s voice had dropped to a growl, but still was not making direct eye contact with any of them, or touching any of them, even if he saw the bloody gash that was carved into Tommy’s arm.</p>
<p>“Well he fell through the floor, and into like a pool thing, and completely jacked up his arm --”</p>
<p>“You two were in water?” This was the moment where he turned to face his son, looking the younger ram right into his eyes as he spoke. Tubbo gave a frozen nod, slow, and almost ashamed. “Jesus Christ.”</p>
<p>No one spoke. As the older ram slowly straightened his body to be fully standing up, the creaks and pops in his bones audible to everyone.</p>
<p>“You two go get out of those wet clothes and take showers, now. We don’t need either of you getting hypothermia. Tommy just throw your clothes into a pile, I’ll get you some clean ones. Then we’ll bandage your arm. Did you go into the water?”</p>
<p>Ranboo stood dumbfounded for a moment, before looking around. Oh, he was the one being talked to.</p>
<p>“Me?”</p>
<p>“Yes, you.”</p>
<p>“Oh, um, no sir, I didn’t go, um--”</p>
<p>“Schlatt, none of this ‘sir’ business. And you can help yourself to anything in the kitchen. You two, up, and go. Get showering, you’re going to get sick.”</p>
<p>Both Tommy and Tubbo were slow to get up, both of them still shivering, but went about exiting the room very differently. Tommy kept his eyes glued on the floor, while Tubbo kept his eyes on Tommy, as they broke off.</p>
<p>The blonde opened a door in the hallway and descended the hidden stairs, while Tubbo walked farther into the house, the rising clop of his hooves the only indicator that he was going upstairs.</p>
<p>Schlatt signed, downing the last of whatever was in his mug, and silently started to make his way to the hallway door, but not before shouting back to Ranboo.</p>
<p>“Kitchen is a free for all, there are chicken nuggets in the oven, and Mac n’ Cheese on the stove. Help yourself.”</p>
<p>And then he was gone.</p>
<p>And the socially awkward enderman hybrid was left alone in an unfamiliar house, with the invitation to ‘help himself’ to food. So, he did what anyone would do.</p>
<p>He awkwardly sat on the couch and did nothing. It seemed like the best option. Besides, he wanted a moment to just process what had happened.</p>
<p>He knew what had happened. Logically, he knew. But that did not make it feel any more real. He could not wrap his head around the fact that Tommy had woken him up hours ago, and how he was in some ram hybrid’s house after the same teen that had woken him up had fallen through a floor.</p>
<p>And who was Tubbo? And Schlatt? What if they were just crazy? And someone was going to notice that they were gone, eventually, but they would have no idea where to. And Eret would have quite the freak out when they learned where their baby brother had been so late at night, not that he could blame his older sibling. And he should have helped more when Tommy was freaking out, and not just stand on the sidelines and watch, but what could have he done? Water would hurt him, and they did not need someone else who was hurt, and he had helped as soon as they had dragged Tommy out of the water, but why did it not feel like enough? Could he have done more? And if so what? He thought he had done enough, so why did it always feel like he was behind in every event he was involved with?</p>
<p>“Hey,” Ranboo was standing in a second, whirling around to face Schlatt, who had just come up from the downstairs. “Whoa, easy there tiger. There’s no reason to start throwing fists, I’m not sure you could even do any real damage if I’m being honest.”</p>
<p>“I-- um--”</p>
<p>“Come on, let’s go make some hot chocolate.”</p>
<p>How did this just keep happening?</p>
<p>He followed Schlatt through the small hallway that led to the kitchen, with a staircase leading up in the far corner. And he had been right, there was a cover pot in the corner, with a few plates on the counter. The lingering smell of burnt still hung in the air, mixing with the faint smoke smell that was just made more noticeable by the kitchen.</p>
<p>Schlatt started to work on gathering mugs out of the cabinet and retrieving some milk from the fridge.</p>
<p>“Do you know how to boil milk?”</p>
<p>“Um-- yeah, I think so--”</p>
<p>“Good. Pots are in the lower cabinets, and a whisk is in that drawer.”</p>
<p>Ranboo got to work setting up, putting a generous amount in the pot, and mixing it every so often to make sure that it did not burn. It was nice to do something with his hands, to be given something to do, so he was not just left with his thoughts. A part of him wondered if Schlatt actually knew what he was doing, and that had been the plan all along. The ram started a conversation before he could make up his mind.</p>
<p>“What is your name kid?”</p>
<p>“Oh, it’s Ranboo.”</p>
<p>“Ranboo. I’ve never heard of you before.”</p>
<p>“Oh yeah, I am friends with Tommy’s older brother Techno, and well, I know him through that. But I just met Tubbo today.”</p>
<p>Schlatt hummed his understanding, starting to dish out some food onto the plates.</p>
<p>“What happened to Tommy?”</p>
<p>“Well, like Tubbo said --”</p>
<p>“Not what happened today, what happened to him?”</p>
<p>“Huh?”</p>
<p>“Tommy is normally very safe when it comes to exploring. He only gets reckless when something is upsetting him. That and, I don’t think I have ever seen the kid so quiet. So something has to be wrong, beyond hurting his arm.”</p>
<p>“I want to know too,” a voice from the stairs forced both of them to turn to see Tubbo, in a pair of baggy plaid pants, a gray t-shirt, his hair still damp from the shower. “He was acting all strange the whole time, but he wouldn’t tell me what happened.”</p>
<p>“We’re not going to bring it up with him,” Schlatt said, turning to face Ranboo again, “I just want to make sure that he is safe, and does not need any further help. And if we know what is going on, we can avoid bringing up sore topics that he is not going to like. You don’t have to go into detail, but an overview would be nice.”</p>
<p>It wasn’t Ranboo’s story to tell, it was Tommy’s. But, then again, there was no way that Tommy was going to tell them. He had barely spoken a word on the walk back and only talked to defend himself. And these were not bad people, right? It wasn’t like he didn’t need the help -- he did. Tommy did.</p>
<p>“W-well,” he stammered, looking to the floor, “a few weeks ago, Techno, well, ok, so, he fights for a living. Like broadcasted fights. And, he got hurt during one of them. He was pulled from the fights and taken home. And--then, he went back to the fights too early and got even more hurt, and--now he’s in the hospital, and, ow, and, Tommy, look I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>His feet staggered as someone slammed into him, making him take a few steps back, as two arms wrapped tightly around his waist. He didn’t know why he was crying, he had already talked to Phil, this should be fine. He should be fine! So why --</p>
<p>“Ranboo,” his head slowly turned to where Schlatt towered over him, finally realizing how tall the man was, trying not to flinch at the tears that were streaming down his face. “Can I give you a hug?”</p>
<p>Ranboo felt his face contort, and scrunch, giving a nod, before rubbing a palm into his eyes. He didn’t want to cry. He should be fine.</p>
<p>Schlatt wrapped an arm around his shoulder, placing the other one on Tubbo’s. He smelled like old cigarette smoke and apple pie, and that just made him cry harder. But it was warm and cozy, something that he would not have expected out of the intimidating-looking ram. Resting his head on the chest of the man, Ranboo let himself a few more moments of pain before he started to wipe the tears.</p>
<p>“Sorry, sorry,” he muttered, starting to pull away from the hugs. But they held on.</p>
<p>“It’s ok kid. It’s ok.”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>Tommy pulled his clothes off, throwing them into a pile, peeling the sleeves off of where it had dried with his blood. The water was running, starting to warm up, covering the bathroom in steam, warm and putting a slight pressure on his lungs, but not to the point where it was uncomfortable.<p>He was numb. That much was very clear. And he didn’t know what to do about it.</p>
<p>Was this really what he wanted?</p>
<p>The wound hurt, the hot water stung it, but it did not hurt as much as it should. It just felt numb. Tommy felt like an alien to his own body, but he did not know how to stop it. He had started something that he did not understand. Put a train into motion that he thought would keep himself safe, and now he was hurting other people.</p>
<p>Now he was hurting Tubbo.</p>
<p>He hurt Tubbo.</p>
<p>“Feel something god damn it,” he whispered to the water, as it started to work on the knots in his shoulders, the few scars that he had collected over the years burning with a pain he had never experienced before.</p>
<p>Why was there a hole in his chest? He had put that there. He had pushed Phil away when all he wanted to do right now was fall into his father’s arms. Why did he do that? Why didn’t he just stop when Tubbo had told him to? Why did he keep going?</p>
<p>Why was he hurting people? That was never what he wanted. Tommy had just wanted things to go back to the way that they were and now he was breaking things all over again, and he was <i>hurting</i> people.</p>
<p>“Feel something, you son of a --!” he couldn’t finish the sentence, slamming his fist into the porcelain tiles that lines the shower.</p>
<p>It was a minute before he continued with the shower. Tommy did not know why he kept going, maybe it was because there was nothing better to do. The water was shut off, and he stepped out, drying himself and slipping into a way too big pair of pajama pants and shirt.</p>
<p>“Tommy?” A timid, shy voice echoed from outside of the wooden door, and the blonde ten almost jumped out of his skin at the noise. “Tommy, can I come in?”</p>
<p>Shit, fuck! It’s Tubbo. He wasn’t ready to face the ram. He didn’t when he would be ready, but not here, not now, he was a mess, what was he going to --</p>
<p>“Yeah, come on it.” Fuck.</p>
<p>The door handle turned cautiously, giving him time to pace around the small room a few more times before his best friends stood on the doorway.</p>
<p>“Hey Big T. Big Tubbo. Tubbo. Tub-box,” smile. Force a smile. You hurt him. “What--”</p>
<p>Tommy had a moment to prepare before he was enveloped in a hug, tighter than any hug he had ever received from Tubbo.</p>
<p>“Aw, come on now man, you’re embarrassing me,” Shut up! Shut up, just let him hug you. Please. “You can let go now. This is kind of getting awkward.”</p>
<p>There was a sniff, and Tubbo did back up, rubbing a palm into his eyes as glistening tears fell from them.</p>
<p>“I just wanted you to know that I care about you. And you scared me. And I don’t want you to leave just yet, I really, really--”</p>
<p>Tommy almost picked up the boy, smothering his sobs into Tubbo’s shoulder while the ram clawed at his clothes, trying to get closer than they were. His chest hurt, but not with the hole he had made, with the aching feeling of how he had made his best friend feel. The hug was so warm.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry --”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is fluff-aque. I would go even far to say that it is fluff-esque. At the very least, it is a break from the angst, soo it's fine.</p>
<p>(Please, the fanfiction police will find me if they realize I am not giving my readers well-rounded meals, it's considered neglect, I am trying me best, don't tell them)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Return of Eret and baby Techno!! Because we need a little bit of a relaxed chapter after the last one. And what better way to do that than with an other-reality being and a baby piglin.</p><p>Oh yeah, and the other stuff too, but mostly Eret and baby Techno.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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